The Smell of Apples
by LiKv
Summary: Harry Potter is happy with his life just as it is, wife dog and all. Incoming: Draco Malfoy.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Harry Potter is not mine, etc, etc. This is a re-write of a fic I once published on my livejournal, that contained some serious frerard smut. I always liked the story, but I re-wrote it for some serious Drarry love. The language will probably change over the course of the chapters, seeing as I'm basing this of something I wrote when I was 15 (input heavy shuddering). Rated T for language and heavy sexual tension. (I _might_ change the rating later on, I will have to see where the story takes me).

* * *

There, it was all finished. Harry had lit the candles, he'd prepared his Italian specialty, and he'd put down the gift for his beautiful wife. It was their three year anniversary today, and he simply couldn't believe his own luck. Three years of marriage, three years of peace and quiet without having a single worry in their life. After the war had ended, Harry and Ginny had gone back to their previous romance, and it hadn't taken Harry too long to pop the question. The wedding had been most beautiful, and Harry could still recall every single moment of it. From Hermione's positive bawling, to Ron looking so happy he might burst, Mr and Mrs Wealsey crying happily, and Hagrid blowing his nose with his enormous handkerchief. Yes, marrying Ginny had definitively been a good choice, Harry mused to himself.

Right now though, Harry was running around the house, fixing the last few things before Ginny was supposed to come home from her parent's house. She said she'd have a surprise for him, and Harry was slightly worried about what it might be, knowing Ginny, it could be anything (and he did not want to repeat last year's fiasco with the big party and she coming in wearing nothing but underwear).

The only thing Harry missed about Ginny, was that she wasn't at home as much as he would like. She was working as a journalist for The Daily Prophet, and often had to go on business trips around England, and sometimes the rest of Europe. She was a traveller, so he was quite lonely sometimes, but it didn't worry him too much, it made their time together even more special. So they'd decided to wait with having any children, seeing as she wanted to have a career first, and frankly, he'd understood her when she voiced that for the first time. Harry had thought along the same lines himself, working as an auror-trainee, children weren't exactly what he wanted to deal with when he came home in the afternoons.

"Haaarry, are you home," Ginny's sweet voice reached him from the hallway. He could hear her steps, and something that sounded like padding, wait, what?

"Hey there, sweetie," Harry said and rose up from the positively ugly green sofa he'd been sitting on. Even though it was ugly, it was the first piece of furniture they had ever bought together, and Harry had wanted to keep it, even after they'd started to make more money. He walked in to the hallway with a big grin upon his face, but it was soon replaced with a gaping expression. His wife was standing in the hallway with a big smile in her face, and a little Golden Retriever in her arms. Dear Merlin, he was adorable.

"Say hello to your new best friend," Ginny giggled.

"Ginny, he's… precious." He reached out to rub his fingers behind the dogs little ear, his big, grey, puppy dog eyes, that reminded Harry of something, but he couldn't quite recall what, was staring at him with so much love, that Harry could hardly contain himself. Instead of a collar, the dog had a red bandana around his neck.

He kissed Ginny gently on her lips. "You are the best wife anyone could ever ask for," Harry said with a childish enthusiasm.

"I know," she answered smugly. "You like him then?"

"I love him! What's his name?" He reached out and took the dog in his arms, he was so soft.

"He doesn't have a name yet," she answered briefly as she took of her cloak and put it in the locker. "I figured since he's yours, maybe you should name him." She gave him a brilliant smile. "I'm glad you like him."

Harry smiled at her again. "I'll need to think about it. Maybe we could find something together." He put the dog down on the floor, and watched as the little beast started to make a havoc of trying to climb Ginny's leg. "Now, I want to show you something." He guided her in to the dining room, where he'd staged everything for a most romantic dinner for two.

After the dinner, he fixed a proper bed for the dog, and made a mental-note to dream of names for him that night. Ironic enough, the dog was going to sleep in the cot under the stairs (with the door open of course), which would make a perfect bedroom for a dog. Harry gave the dog one last reassuring smile, before he went up to the bedroom, where Ginny was waiting for him.

The weekend went by mostly with Ginny packing for a trip to France, and trying to come up with names for the new dog. Harry still couldn't recall who or what the dog reminded him off, but he'd probably figure it out some day.

"Do you really have to leave," he asked Ginny for what was probably the twentieth time just that Sunday. She was leaving the day after, and Harry simply didn't want her to.

"Harry James Potter," Ginny said sternly, "You know I love you, but sometimes, you can truly be a pain in the arse. Of course I have to go. And I know that sometimes the company dinners can make you a little uncomfortable –" Ginny was working with too many tall, dark and handsome men for Harry's liking, "- But I promise you, you have nothing to worry about." She kissed Harry gently on the lips.

"Really?"

"I'm married to Harry Potter," she sighed, "nobody will ever dare to even touch me, fearing that you'll hex their arses from here to Russia."

In spite of himself, Harry had to laugh. "But you'll be back Friday, right?"

"Yes," she smiled and closed in on him again. "I'm going to miss you an awful lot," she murmured against his lips, before she kissed him again. Harry smiled, and answered the kiss, just like a good husband ought to do.

"I won't be alone though," he mused as she pulled away from him. "I've got the little beat to keep me company."

"Just promise me one thing, Harry," she said with a light laugh, "name him before I'm home again."

The morning after, Harry was sitting in the kitchen alone. Ginny had just left, and he had nothing but the dog as company. He hadn't shown her that he was actually sad that she was leaving, he'd just waved her goodbye, before she'd apparated to the office.

"It's just you and me then, little rascal," Harry said to the dog, lifting him up on the chair next to him as he spoke. "Mummy went off with her tall, dark and handsome colleagues." He hated himself for voicing his concern about the men in her office to Ginny, but he was; he was jealous.

Harry waved his wand in the general direction of the radio, and lifted up the dog again. He almost danced through the house to the newest hit of The Wicked Sisters. The band had been on the biggest hit trip when he'd gone to Hogwarts, so he was taken down memory lane when _Do the Hippogriff_ came on. Remembering all that, he walked up to the second storey, and in to a room that was full of useless stuff they didn't have the heart to throw out.

"Look," Harry said to the little puppy, who was curiously running around the room, sniffing everything he could get his nose on. "Old photo albums." The album he opened first was the one Hagrid had given him on the last day of his first school year. Some of the photos were missing, seeing as they had been hung in the living room. There were several of his parents, waving and smiling to him, and Harry couldn't help himself but to smile back. In another album he found pictures from his first (and sadly, last) Christmas with Sirius. In one photo he was morphing to a dog, just to amuse a very young looking Ginny. He'd though about it, naming the dog Sirius or Padfoot, but it would be too emotional, and besides, the dog didn't look much like Padfoot had.

Smiling to himself, he found one of many photos Andromeda had sent Harry of Teddy. They had, sadly, moved to Ireland, so Harry didn't get to see them too often, but he made sure to pop by once in a while. In this photo, Teddy Lupin's hair was bright pink, just like his mother.

Digging even deeper in the box, he finally dragged out the album he was most keen to look at. Their graduation album. Harry had returned to finish his seventh year at Hogwarts, thinking that N.E.W.T's would always come in handy, and here he was, looking at an old album of himself and the rest of the graduates. The first picture was of the trio, Hermione was standing in the middle, holding her arms around their shoulders. The next one was of Harry and Ron, beaming at the camera. Then there was the one with Hermione and Ron standing together, looking most in love. Harry missed the times they'd had together so much, he would have to floo them sometime this week.

In the back of the album, was a picture of the whole graduation class. Harry was standing next to Ron and Hermione, smiling in a sort of awkward manner, Ron and Hermione were holding hands. Parvati and Padma Patil were beaming at the camera, like this was their moment in the sun. There weren't many who came back to take their N.E.W.T's, but the few that had remained, were the few that had been least scarred by the battle. Harry tapped the photo to get some Ravenclaw boys to move, to see who was behind them. A blonde, pointy faced smirk gleamed up at him, with steel grey eyes and his diploma in hand. Draco Malfoy.

Even though they had been on friendlier terms during those last few months together, but that didn't mean there was an underlying contempt in the brief conversations. Ron had never softened up to Malfoy, of course, seeing as he'd always been somewhat of a git, but Harry had somewhat easily forgiven him for the Dark Art's he'd been so in over his head with. Still, it had been a little strained.

He looked up at his dog that was so contempt at destroying the cardboard box the photo albums were laying in, and saw those same steel grey eyes he'd seen in the picture.

"Draco," he said silently. "That's your name, isn't it?" The dog, of course, didn't answer, just kept on chewing on the box. Harry couldn't name his dog Draco though. Ginny would positively kill him, Ron would roll over with laughter, and he could only imagine Hermione's judging look upon her face. Great.

The thing about Draco Malfoy was that even though he was a complete and utter arse, he had actually saved their lives. Harry had never actually thanked him for that, and with a pang of regret, he though he maybe should have. However, he hadn't heard anything from or about Draco in several years, not since the war had ended. Harry had a sneaky suspicion that he'd gone to live in some other country, just to get away from it all, and Harry could partially understand it. So Draco Malfoy had become nothing but a memory, Harry was unsure whether to keep or throw away.

He rose up from his rather uncomfortable position on the floor and put the albums back in the box. "Come on, Dr- you little rascal," he said to the dog. "I'll make you dinner." The dog followed him happily down the stairs.

Life without Ginny, especially when he had vacation, was long and boring. He took Foy (which was the name he'd settled on for the dog) for several walks around the neighbourhood, had Hermione and Ron over for dinner, went to see the other Weasleys, talked to their muggle neighbour and everything in between. But still the days went by awfully slowly. However it was now Thursday, and it was only two days left until _The Return of Ginny Weasley-Potter_.

Funnily enough, he'd been thinking a lot about Draco Malfoy and their time at Hogwarts in the past few days. He was a mystery to Harry, and he intended to find out what had happened to him, he only had to go back to work first. There were two weeks left of his vacation though, so he couldn't start just yet. He'd failed to mention any of his thought to Hermione and Ron, which was probably for the best.

"Foy," Harry whistled after the dog the minute he walked through the door. He'd been out shopping for some groceries, and were loaded with parcels, so naturally, the dog jumped him and made him fall over. Harry had to laugh as the dog was licking his face.

He put his jacket on the hanger, and skipped off his shoes before walking in to the kitchen. He was looking through the mail, and had to give an advertising magazine to Foy so he wouldn't completely trample Harry. The mail were mostly boring stuff, a newspaper, a reminder that he had an appointment with the minister in a couple of weeks, a postcard from Ginny.

_Harry, love_

_When you read this, I'll be home soon._

_I miss you and I love you._

_Ginny_

It was a moving wizard postcard with a photo of a great black dog on the outside, either to resemble Sirius or to resemble Foy. Harry had to smile about the fact that Ginny was actually this wonderful. He'd never believed her to be when he first met the shy little redhead in the burrow for the first time.

He threw away some advertising, sorted through the bills and put the rest in a bunch of stuff that he and Ginny would have to go through together when they got home. He'd overlooked one letter though, it was a parchment envelope so it was from a wizard. It was hand written, so it wasn't a bill or anything.

He wrinkled his nose as he was opening it, he'd stopped getting fanmail a couple of years back, so it probably weren't anything of that sort. Who the hell would send him a letter? The writing was very neat and tidy, but very boyish.

Harry was positively flabbergasted when he had read the letter.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry stared at the letter, reading it again and again, just to really understand what he was actually reading. How did… and when did… and what? There were so many questions inside his head, that he just wanted to tear them out with. While reading the letter one last time, it dawned on Harry though, this was actually happening.

_Harry J. Potter_

_I hope someone takes a picture of your face as you're reading this._

_I know we haven't exactly been friends in the past, but for the past few years I've been thinking about changing that, at least to some extent. I have actually been meaning to write you sooner, but I've been too busy with having a crappy marriage to get a chance. That's not why I'm writing this now though, I ran into Granger the other day. Me and Astoria (that would be the wife) was in London, doing some shopping a couple of days ago, hoping to get away from life for a while. It didn't work, but whatever. The point is, I met Granger, and she wasn't as… reluctant to talking to me as I would have imagined. We had coffee at Cauldron, and I actually did have a nice time. I surprised even myself. _(Harry could positively hear the sarcasm in the letter). _Meeting her brought back a lot of memories though, so you can thank her (or not?) for writing to you. She reminded me that even though a lot of people still despise the name I carry, there are some of you who have forgiven me._

_She also told me that you are married. I have to congratulate you, even though I would never have said it aloud in school, I have to admit that Ginny is really pretty. I saw a picture from your wedding day, that Hermione kept in her wallet, and you look really happy, and I honestly hope you are._

_There is one other reason for me writing you today, Harry, I want to meet you. I'm coming back to Lodon on the 31__st__ of July for a quick visit. As I understand, that is your birthday, so I understand if you want to spend the day with your wife instead. However, I will be living at the Leaky Cauldron, so I will probably be down in the pub getting famously wasted._

_Draco L. Malfoy_

Harry kept staring at the letter, not quite believe what was actually written on that piece of parchment. Draco Malfoy, wanted to meet him, Harry Potter, at the Leaky Cauldron. Harry was very unsure whether or not he was going to actually go there, but time would show. However, he was quite… glad? That Draco actually had written him a letter, and it was all very coincidental, wasn't it, that he wrote the letter, just as Harry was thinking about him so much.

A couple of days later, Harry had cleaned the house and fixed everything for Ginny to come home from France. He was happy that she was coming home, so he could put Draco Malfoy at the back of his head for a while.

A sudden barking and whining from Foy, told Harry that someone was close to the door. Smiling, he rose from the ugly, green couch, and walked towards the hallway. Ginny was home. Standing there, smiling, looking more beautiful than he'd ever seen her. She had a new set of robes, he noticed, and she'd gotten a nice haircut.

"Harry," she said with a big grin and positively threw herself around his neck. After having stuffed her bag up in the bedroom, she came down to the kitchen with him again. He made tea as she was chatting away happily about this big scoop about some sort of new magical creature that was being carefully bred in the outskirts of Nice. Harry simply nodded and smiled and laughed where he was supposed to, he was simply just happy listening to her voice.

"Did you find a name for this little rascal yet," she asked as she lifted the dog up in her lap.

"Yes, I did actually," he answered with a smile. "I think it's French for faith or something along those lines." Harry could vaguely remember having French lessons in the last year of muggle school, but he could hardly remember any of it.

"Ooo, that's cute," Ginny squealed. "You know, maybe he should have a girlfriend?"

"No," Harry said promptly. "Two dogs would cause a complete havoc."

So they decided to wait with a new dog until they had gotten to know Foy a bit better first, and gotten him to understand that he would always have their complete and utter attention. He was just a little puppy after all, and they really had to take just as much care of him as they would have of a baby.

So, now they were a completely average family, with a small house with a dogs house on the outside. All that was missing were kids, but as they'd decided to wait with that, they were completely happy with their life just as it was. Ginny was home for a while, so they were spending their days like it was their honeymoon all over again.

A couple of days before his birthday, Harry was sitting in the kitchen, reading the Daily Prophet and drinking his tea, half-listening to a yelling conversation Ginny was having over floo in the neighbour room. Foy was running around the room playing with a puffskein-toy Harry had gotten him the last time he went to Diagon Alley. He had to laugh a bit at the silly dog, being so contempt to kill the toy.

"Harry," Ginny said as she walked in to the kitchen. She had soot on her face, Harry marked, but he didn't say anything. She looked absolutely furious. That could impossibly mean anything good.

"What," he asked an put down the paper. He picked up the dogs toy and threw it in to the living room, and Foy ran after it like it was holding its mere life.

"You know it's been a while since I travelled now," Ginny said carefully as she sat down o the other side of the counter. "My boss just flooed me…"

"Don't tell me you're leaving again," Harry groaned. "Please, Ginny."

"I'm sorry, Harry. I tried to tell him that I didn't have the time. I tried to tell him to send Dennis instead, but he refused to listen to me. He's such an arse."

"I understand," Harry muttered. "And… Frankly, I'm glad you get as much work as you do, because if you get promoted, you'll be home every night, right?"

"Yes."

"Exactly! That will be great! I think you just need to do what your boss tells you for now. And hope for an early promotion." He smiled weakly at her. He didn't like her going away, but if her going could make her stay in town later on, that would be great, and she loved what she was doing, so looking for another job was out of the question.

"How did I ever land someone as amazing as you," Ginny mused and placed a kiss on Harry's forehead.

"Oh, I don't know. Some serious stalking, me saving your life a couple of times…" Harry had to laugh. "When are you leaving by the way?"

"Tomorrow… I'll be gone for your birthday. I'm sorry, Harry. But we'll celebrate when I get home again."

Trying his best not to look hurt, Harry smiled at her. It would be good, it would be all good of course. Hopefully Ginny would be promoted in a year or so, so she could stay home.

This time when Ginny left, Harry wasn't very emotional, Foy was a little sad though, his head hanging and his tail dropping to the ground. Harry believed Foy to be a very smart little creature, and it was obvious that the dog sensed that there was sadness in the air that day.

When Harry had kissed Ginny goodbye, he walked up towards their bedroom. It was a very simple bedroom, with a double bed, a couple of nightstands and a huge cabinet, there was nothing special about it, because they didn't need it to be. With his thoughts drifting, Harry opened the bottom drawer of his nightstand and took out Draco's letter. Harry had read it several times over the past few days, so it was already torn at some places, but it didn't matter. Harry hadn't shown the letter to Ginny, seeing as she probably wouldn't like it one bit, she was with Ron on the whole Draco-is-still-a-scumbag-trip.

_However, I will be living at the Leaky Cauldron, so I will probably be down in the pub getting famously wasted._ Harry read it to himself, and with wrinkled eyebrows, he read the whole letter through again. He would come on Harry's birthday, and he would probably stay for a couple of days. He could always seek out Draco the next day if his nerves got the best of him. Not that he should have anything to be nervous about, it was just Draco Malfoy after all.

It was July 30th. Harry was feeling kind of angsty. First of all, he would turn 23 the day after, and that was just another step in the general grown-up area of his life. Second of all, he had to meet Draco Malfoy. He'd decided about that, he would go meet Draco the next day, he couldn't _not_ do it after Draco had written to him.

He hadn't planned a big party for his birthday though, he remembered last year when Ron had spewed in his begonias, and Hermione had to half-carry him home. Harry was past that, he didn't want that this year, it had been all fun of course, but this year he wanted it quiet, especially since Ginny wasn't at home.

Staring out of the window, watching Foy cause havoc with the neighbour's cat, Harry had to smile to himself. He was happy, living in a middle-class muggle part of London. His neighbours were a really nice family named Smith. They had a very average life, but they were always polite, and could pop by just to say hello from time to time. Luckily, Hermione had taught Harry a quick freezing charm, so that the moving images in the house stopped for a while. They were muggles after all.

Taking Foy around the neighbourhood for a walk, Harry let his mind drift. What could Draco Malfoy possibly have to say to Harry?

Harry woke the morning after, to an owl knocking on his window. He quickly recognized it as Hermione and Ron's horned owl. He got up, and let the bird in, it was carrying a small package, and a letter spellotaped to it. Opening the package, it revealed a new book on the Dark Arts and some sweets that were probably from Mrs Weasley. He read the letter as he walked down to the stairs and nearly trampled Foy as he went in to the kitchen. Here waited more parcels from him. Some treacle fudge from Hagrid, a brilliant eagle feather quill from Professor McGonagall(he would have to write her, he reminded herself), a new cloak from Ginny and a most peculiar book from Luna Lovegood.

Hours later, he got ready to leave the house. Leaving a whimpering Foy under the stairs, he walked out. The rain was positively pouring down from the sky, leaving this to be a most brilliant day, he thought sarcastically to himself. He disapparated right outside his door when he made sure that no muggles could see him, and landed near Gringots in Diagon Alley.

He took his time to go to the Leaky Cauldron though, thinking that Draco would hardly care if he came right on time. He went to the owlery and sent McGonagall his regards and thanked for the letters, stocked up on some potion supplies at the Apothacary and finally he stood outside the Leaky Cauldron. He slowly opened the door, and could spot Draco Malfoy sitting by the bar.

There wasn't a doubt in Harry's head that it wasn't Draco Malfoy sitting in front of him, even though he could only see the back of him. The blonde hair were a good give away, but the general manner of the man who sat at the bar were impeccable.

With an enormous effort of courage, Harry went up to him and sat down next to him.

"Harry Potter," Draco drawled. "Come to sit here with the commoners."

"The usual, Harry," Tom, the barman said. He was getting older, Harry marked, but there was nothing wrong with his memory. Harry nodded, and soon a glass of firewhisky was standing in front of him.

They sat there in silence for a while, they were close to alone in the dirty little pub, and they didn't seem to have anything to talk about. After a rather awkward pause, Harry tried to cough to break the silence, but it only became more pressing.

"Harry, I –"

"Draco, I – "

They spoke at the same time, and they shared a little laugh. And for a moment, it felt just as Harry were meeting Ron or Hermione in the little pub.

"You first," Harry said.

"No, you first," Draco answered with a small smile.

"Okay," Harry mused. "I just, I never really thanked you for… well, saving our lives back at the Manor. I don't know why, but I gave it a thought a couple of days ago, and well… Thank you," he finished somewhat lamely.

"I couldn't very well let you die, could I," Draco answered dryly, but Harry was sure he could see a smile hiding in his eyes. "Who would I have to pester?"

Harry laughed heartily and finished his drink, Tom quickly putting another one in front of him.

"I wanted to apologize to you," Draco said, "for the way I acted in school. It was…"

"Draco, stop," Harry said. "All of that is in our past. Besides, you weren't that much of a prick in our seventh year."

Draco forced a laugh. They sat in silence for a while, but it wasn't awkward this time. They talked a bit now and then, but mostly, they sat in silence. Harry was on his fourth firewhisky when a girl came up to them. The kid was probably about seventeen or eighteen, just out of Hogwarts, Harry guessed.

"You're Harry Potter," he stated.

"No shit," Draco drawled, and Harry had to stifle a laugh.

"Yes," Harry answered, trying his best to ignore Draco, who was shamelessly laughing at his own joke.

"Why are you sitting with him," the girl demanded to know, "he's just a filthy Death Eater, and you're _Harry Potter_."

Draco's laughter stifled at once, and he grabbed his left arm as a flash of pain went over his face.

"You know, when I went to school," Harry said rather dryly, "we tended to have respect for those who were older than us, but I guess the habit died pretty fast." He rolled his eyes at the girl. "And for your information, the Malfoys saved my life on several occasions, so why don't you hop along and leave us the fuck alone before I hex you?"

The girl turned on her heel and walked away from the two of them. Harry knew he probably shouldn't have snapped like that at the girl, but the Malfoy's had been pardoned for that reason alone.

"This is why I don't go among the wizards a lot," Draco muttered. He'd let go of what was probably the remains of his Dark Mark.

"So it's like this a lot," Harry wanted to know.

"Yes. Kids take after their parents, so more often than not; kids will yell Death Eater or traitor after me." He sighed heavily. "But the good thing is, you get used to it."

They sat in silence again, Harry pondering over this. It shouldn't be like this, he would have to talk to Kingsley when they had their meeting after his vacation. Those who were still considered Death Eaters after the war were in Azkaban with no means to escape, so it really shouldn't be a problem.

"Tell me about your wife," Harry said. "You said you have a crappy marriage?"

"Hah, way to go cheering me up, Potter," Draco drawled. "But sure. We met just a couple of months after I graduated, I was visiting the friends I had left, and she was there, and we just clicked you know. She was apparently, perfect, so I decided to marry her pretty quick. It wasn't a big ceremony or anything, but we got together and got married. It wasn't until after that I realised what a complete and utter bitch she actually is." He sighed again. "I don't think I ever actually was in love with her, she was just… there, you know, when I needed someone. There was a lot of lust involved, of course, but there never was any romance. So our marriage has slowly, but surely crumpled to pieces, and now I hate both myself and her."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Is it really that bad?"

"Worse," Draco said, downing his whisky. "But I should probably head up before I do anything stupid though."

Harry smiled at him. "I should get home to. Foy is probably waiting."

"Foy?"

"Yeah, oh," Harry blushed, not really knowing why though. "He's my dog."

"Why Foy?"

"Oh, no particular reason," Harry mused, "he just reminds me of somebody that I used to know."

Draco laughed. "Potter. This was nice," he admitted.

"It was, Draco," Harry said. "Maybe we could do it again sometime. Or you know, you could drop by for tea, or beer, or whisky, or whatever really. Ginny travels a lot."

"Sure," Draco smiled.

Harry disapparated, and was soon standing inside his own living room with the puppy jumping his legs. Who would have known?


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: I want to thank you all for giving me such amazing reviews! I nearly got teary eyed(just kidding of course, I bawled like a child). Anyway, some of you wonder about the dog, it's just a dog, really ;)

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Harry didn't hear anything more from Draco in the next few days, and slowly, but surely, he came back to himself again. He talked to Hermione and Ron again, but decided to not mention his encounter with the infamous git. Ginny came home again, and life returned to the normal routines. They were loving and caring, and Foy was positively growing by the day. Harry didn't even notice it at first, but soon it became clear that their lives had turned in to a rut.

"Ginny," he asked her one night. She had been staying at home for quite a time, and she seemed somewhat… tired? Unhappy?

"Mm," she answered, still focused on the book that she was reading.

"Are you happy?"

"Of course, Harry," she answered, not lifting her eyes from the book she was reading.

Harry turned around, not at all reassured by her answer, but he quickly fell asleep even so.

The next time Ginny went on one of her trips, Harry barely bothered to say goodbye to her. She was obviously much happier when she was travelling than when she was not, and frankly, Harry had quite enjoyed the solitude the last time she had gone. Besides, he had Foy to keep him company, which always made him happy, just to think about.

Harry was going back to work for the first time in three weeks. He loved his job more than anything, but it had completely broken his heart to let the poor dog stay at home all day. He would have to ask someone if Foy could come in to the office from time to another.

"Potter, nice to see you," Kingsley Schacklebolt said in his calm voice when Harry walked in to his office. "Did you have a nice summer?"

"Minister," Harry said with a smile. "Yes, I did actually. I've gotten a dog, so a lot of my time has gone away with him."

"No need to call me minister, Harry," the older wizard laughed. "Dogs are lovely but I have always liked cats much better. I have several at home actually, Mrs Shacklebolt isn't too happy about that though, but she'll live."

Harry laughed. They spent a good half-hour catching up on the latest news in the Daily Prophet, rumours about someone trying to collect the masses for a riot, and of course, Quidditch.

"Kingsley," Harry said after a while. "I have somewhat of a concern, but I don't know how I shall proceed with it."

"Speak up, young friend," the minister said in an interested tone.

"I met up with Draco Malfoy over the break, and a girl approached us. She asked me why I was spending time with a Death Eater. As you of all know very well, I made sure that the Malfoy's were pardoned for their mischiefs, seeing as both Draco and Narcissa saved my life… I don't know if this is coming from their parents or someone at school… I have to admit I snapped at her, but that's hardly the point. I thought we were done with wizard classicism. I realise of course that it is hard to erase old habits, so if it were an old bloke I probably wouldn't have reacted the way I did, but this girl could hardly be more than seventeen. Draco told me that this tended to happen quite a lot, so I just hoped I could talk to someone about this and maybe enforce an act or something along those lines."

"I'm quite aware of the problem, Potter," Kingsley said solemn. "I believe Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy moved to France for that reason alone, and several of the pardoned Death Eaters have been doing the same thing. Maybe… No, I don't know."

"Maybe what," Harry asked curiously.

"Maybe if you were seen with young Malfoy from time to time… You are the wizard hero after all. That the murmurs would die down a bit at least. But nevertheless, I will write a note for the Undersecretary – yes, Percy Weasley, and make him take a look at it. Maybe he has some fix ideas. Brilliant young kid."

Harry, who had never quite forgotten about Percy Weasley's traitorous behaviour during the second wizarding war, felt his face stiffen. But by all means, if he could help, that would be great.

"Anything else then, Potter?"

"No, thanks for the catch up, Minister," Harry said and left for his own office. Harry had completely plastered the walls of his office with old newspaper cutouts, pictures of his friends and little family, and today he added a new picture to the wall: Foy Potter, the dog. He got some paperwork done that day, and went to Borgin and Burkes for a little check up on their newly stocked store, making sure nothing in there was actually harmful to anyone, and left for home not long after that. It was just another day at work.

When he came home, he found a pleasant surprise waiting for him. An owl was sitting on his post box, and hooted silently when Harry came up to it. He untied the letter from the owls foot, and watched as it flew away.

Harry made himself some coffee and went to sit by the kitchen counter to read the letter. It was that same, neat handwriting he recognized as Draco Malfoy, and he had to admit that he was kind of excited to see it.

_Harry,_

_I head that Ginny was out of town again, and I wondered if I could pop by tomorrow afternoon for coffee._

_Draco._

Hastily scribbling an answer to Draco, he sent his own owl with the letter to the return address. Draco seemed to live somewhere in Manchester, it was probably for the best, Harry thought, not a lot of wizards there.

The next day after work, Harry had arranged for them to sit in the living room, and had put on the kettle with coffee. It was nearly five though, when the doorbell finally rang. Harry had to hold a very excited Foy back by his bandana to actually keep him from not jumping Draco when he walked through the door.

"Hello there," Harry said, still struggling with the wild dog. "Sit, Foy, _sit_." The dog very reluctantly sat down, but his tail still wagged like a madman.

"Harry," Draco said smugly. "I suppose that's Foy then?"

"Wha-yes," he answered. "Eh, come in." Suddenly awkward, Harry let go of the dog, which immediately jumped Draco and tried to lick his ears. Harry had a wave of nostalgia, for Fang, the giant board hound trying to do the same to Harry so many years ago.

They proceeded in to the living room, and sat down with their coffees. Harry could see that Draco was somewhat intrigued by the TV and the CD-player, but Harry decided not to mention it, somehow he thought that Draco wouldn't care one bit.

"So, what have you been up to," Harry asked as he helped himself to a biscuit.

"Nothing, really," Draco answered, "oh, I filed for a divorce though. Astoria was being a real bitch about me being in London _with Harry Potter, of all people_, so I just got enough."

"I'm sorry?" Harry tried, but Draco merely laughed. "You should be happy for me, man, I'm a free man. Time to get famously drunk and bang whatever has a pulse."

"Real classy, Malfoy," Harry pointed out. "But why would it be so bad to be with me?"

"Because she believes that if it weren't with you, I would have been in Azkaban and she would never have met me. Which is reassuring that she thinks of me in _such_ a loving manner." His voice was positively dripping sarcasm.

"You would have been though," said Harry. "I'm the reason you got pardoned, remember?"

"Yeah, well, but…" Draco, for what Harry thought was the first time, was out of words.

"Anyway, how is life with Ginny?"

"It's good," Harry answered quickly, maybe a bit too quickly, which Draco of course noticed.

"Is it really though," he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Am I being horrible when I say that it's better when she's just about to leave?" Harry was concerned about this, the last couple of times Ginny had gone away for work, Harry had been happier in the couple of days before she was leaving, and somewhat bored the days she got back. "She seems happier too, when she is travelling."

"Witch Weekly claims that you two have the most perfect marriage any wizard could ask for," Draco pointed out.

"Well, yes. It was."

"But now?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's just a three-year itch or something. It will probably pass, and we will be happy together again." Harry sighed heavily, and not really wanting to continue on the subject, he quickly changed it to Quidditch, a language they both understood.

Harry felt oddly comfortable sitting next to Draco Malfoy, it wasn't something he'd experienced with this man before. It wasn't like sitting with Ron or Hermione, it felt different, somewhat better. He could never have talked about marriage troubles with Ron for instance, who simply believed everything would fix itself in time, and Hermione would be a complete wreck if he had voiced his concerns to her. Draco was an outsider, and he could perhaps understand him more than the happy Granger-Weasleys could.

"Are you still staying at your house," Harry asked after a while with random chit-chat.

"Nah, I'm staying at the Leaky Cauldron. Astoria threw me out, seeing as I was stupid enough to write the house over to her." He rolled his eyes.

"Not your brightest moment then," Harry said with a smirk. "You could crash on the couch here though, if you wanted." Why did he say that? That was stupid.

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm good at the Cauldron. Easier access to the booze."

Harry laughed, so that he woke up Foy who had been sleeping in a basket by the door. The dog came and laid his head in Draco's lap, craving for attention.

"Besides, I don't think your wife would be all too happy to have me," he continued as he lazily petted Foy. "Why did you call him Foy, really?"

"Oh.. Eh, it was all really random, really," Harry said quickly. "I hadn't named him yet, and I were going down memory lane, so I was looking through my graduation album, and found a picture of you. And-his-eyes-reminded-me-of-you," he finished even quicker.

Draco laughed. "I'm flattered," he said. "To have a dog named after me. I would assume that you would name him after Black though."

"Would have been too sentimental," Harry muttered. "Besides, Sirius was always a great black dog, much as his last name."

"What actually happened that day," Draco asked, "when Sirius ran away again? I figured you had something to do about it, and since that bloody Hippogriff ran away at the same time… Well, putting two and two together."

"Don't be foul to Buckbeak," Harry said sternly.

"He attacked me," Draco defended himself.

"Because you egged it on, you git," Harry laughed. "But anyway. This is strictly confidential of course, but me and Hermione used a time-turner to go back in time, so we saved both Buckbeak and Sirius."

Draco gaped. "A time-turner? How on earth did you get one of those?"

"Hermione used it for all her classes, she took so many subjects that year, that McGonagall made some arrangements."

Draco laughed heartily. "Of course, Granger was a bit of a know-it-all back in school, no wonder she wanted to take on all the subjects."

"She still is," Harry said, "she's just gotten better at concealing it." Draco laughed again.

They sat together until it was far past midnight, when Draco finally got up and was about to leave.

"You know," Harry said as Draco was getting his coat on. "Next time, you don't have to owl me beforehand. Most of the time it's only me and Foy at home anyway. You can just pop by."

"Sure," Draco said. "You will get tired of me though. If you haven't noticed, I tend to talk a lot."

"You don't say," Harry answered dryly. There was a somewhat awkward moment of silence, before Draco stepped out, and a familiar pop told Harry that he'd disapparated. Foy looked up at Harry with a knowing glance, but Harry ignored it. It was all silly, the dog was being silly and Harry was being silly. Still, going to bed that night, Harry couldn't help but to wonder if his weakening marriage had something to do with Draco Malfoy.


	4. Chapter 4

Draco stopped by several times during that week, and more often than not, they ended up talking too long in to the night about everything and nothing of course. It was all good fun, but Harry felt as though he'd been hit by a brick every morning he had to get up at seven to get to work. At work he'd gotten some progress done on a loose werewolf that were pestering a village up in Scotland, so he'd sent out some of the more experienced aurors to deal with that.

Harry hoped Ginny had come home, as he stretched after a long day at work. He decided to walk home, seeing as it wasn't too far, he could use the fresh air to awaken him after a long night talking to Draco. Right he was, when he came home, he found Ginny making dinner in the kitchen.

"Harry," she squealed and threw herself around his neck. "I've missed you so much! You won't believe how much fun I've had at the trip. We went to Italy to research some-"

Harry lost track of what she was saying, and he simply sat staring at her. Listening to her talk was so different from talking to Draco, he was much calmer and talked in a less happy-high-school-girl-manner than Ginny. She continued to chat about some Hinkypunks disturbing them when they were going to Venice, but Harry was only half-listening. Recalling yesterday's conversation with Draco about the incident with the filibuster firework in Goyle's cauldron, he had to laugh to himself.

"I know, right," Ginny said, he'd obviously laughed in the right place. "Anyway, so Dean was saying –"

"Dean," Harry said, "Dean Thomas?"

"Yes, I work with him, haven't I told you?"

"No. You haven't," Harry said, he was looking curiously at her.

"I must have forgotten… Anyway, dinner is served."

"Him not hungry anymore," Harry said, somewhat grumpily. "I forgot… I forgot something at the office, I need to go."

"Harry, don't be like that," Ginny said. "There's nothing going on between me and Dean, Harry!"

But Harry had disapparated, and appeared a few seconds later outside the Leaky Cauldron. How he'd figured that he should go there was beyond him, but he went in, and quickly found the blonde head he was looking for. Draco was sitting at a table for himself, looking murderous at some witches who were talking amongst themselves, and Harry could definitively hear the words Death Eater.

Demonstrating, Harry cleared his throat. "Draco," he said loudly and strode towards him, the witches were positively gaping at him.

"Potter, right at the nick of time," Draco said, his eyes lighting up as Harry sat down. "I seriously considered hexing them, but I thought it wouldn't be too good for my reputation."

"I think you're right," Harry mused, "although, no one would care if I hexed them," he added in an undertone. Draco laughed heartily at that, and held up his glass in a cheer.

"Why are you here anyway," Draco asked after Harry had gotten his drink from Tom. "I thought Ginny was supposed to come home today."

"Ginny has been working with Dean Thomas," Harry said sourly, "without telling me of course. And she is so talkative. She does nothing but babble on and one about Hinkypunks and whatnot, and I just… can't keep up with her. How the fuck can she be so incredibly happy _all the time_."

"I thought you said you were happy," Draco said in a mock-serious voice. Harry just huffed. If he was to continue to hang out with Draco, he thought to himself, he seriously needed to consider alcoholism.

"I am," Harry said slowly. "At least I think so."

"If you only think you're happy, you're not," Draco said, now serious. "You know when you're happy, man. Like, I know that firewhisky makes me happy, I know that your dog makes me fucking happy, and I know that talking to you makes me happy. These are all stuff I know. Tell me, when do you _know_ you're happy, Potter?"

Draco was obviously drunker than Harry initially had thought. "My dog makes me happy," Harry said, a little insecure about the general direction of the conversation. "Hanging out with Ron and Hermione makes me happy, treacle tart makes me very happy, and of course, talking to you."

Draco grinned. "There you have it. Those are stuff you're sure about. If you're not sure about Ginny, then chuck her out, or make an effort to be happy. Whatever floats your boat, you know."

"How much have you had to drink, Draco," Harry asked, raising his eyebrow.

"Just a few," Draco answered with a smile. "Why?"

"You don't sound like yourself."

"Hah! I'm a firm believer that one is most oneself when drunk," he mused. "Now, give me another, Tom!" Harry had to laugh, and in spite of himself, he ordered another firewhisky himself. Ginny probably worried about him though, but right now, he simply didn't care. Talking to Malfoy made him happy, so he should talk to Malfoy, even if it was for just one more night.

The morning after, however, Harry deeply regretted his decision. The light was pouring in through the curtains, which made Harry's headache ten times worse than it already was. Grumpily he shoved Foy down from the bed, and got up. Coffee, he needed coffee. Downstairs, however, Ginny was sitting, looking sour. Harry seriously considered going back to bed, but she spotted him before he could turn around.

"Harry James Potter," she growled. "Where on _earth_ were you last night? You had me worried sick you bastard!"

"Keep your voice down, Ginny," Harry said as he was rubbing his temples. Sounds were so not good for him right then. "Do we have any coffee?"

"On the counter. Where the fuck were you last night?"

"I ran into someone at the office, and we went to the Leaky Cauldron, okay," Harry said, tampering the truth just enough. Harry didn't know why, but he still couldn't bring himself to tell Ginny that he actually spent, and enjoyed, time with Draco Malfoy.

"Who?"

"Just some colleagues, Ginny, chill," Harry said. "It's not like you tell me about everyone you work with either."

"Oh my God, I forgot to mention that I work with Dean Thomas," Ginny said furiously. "What the fuck is your problem? He's just a guy!"

"A guy you used to fuck," Harry drawled. "But by all means, enjoy yourselves. I'll be at home, taking care of everything so you can have your perfect little life."

"_You're_ taking care of everything," Ginny huffed. "That is the stupidest fucking thing I've heard in ages. What is there to take care of?"

"Well, for starters, I'm paying the bills," he said angrily, "your little journalist wage isn't enough to pay even for the groceries, so I take care of the mortgage, the electricity, _everything_."

Ginny looked like she was about to hex him, but she obviously came to her senses. They stood in silence for a while, Harry's head still pounding, but thinking about Draco's words last night _If you only think you're happy, you're not._

"Ginny," Harry said silently after a while. He sat down by the counter, his head in his hands. "Are you happy?"

"I… of course," she answered, a little insecure.

Harry sighed, how could he say against her? She knew if she was happy, and he owed her to be happy. He'd signed the marriage contract, he'd promised her to live with her for good and band, through sickness and health. So Harry kept his mouth shut, and went to bed again.

Life went back to normal pretty quickly, neither of them were people who lingered over fights for very long, but Foy seemed to know what was on Harry's mind. He kept clinging to his side like Harry was the only person in the world, and Harry couldn't blame him. When alone, Harry was depressed and angry, but he kept his smile on for Ginny's sake.

It was a gloomy September day, Harry and Ginny went to Ron and Hermione for dinner. Hermione had whipped up some sort of Italian dish, and it tasted absolutely delicious. They were laughing and cheering all night, and it was all good fun.

"Oh, Harry, I forgot to tell you," Hermione said with a bright smile. "Percy came to me about the act you proposed to the minister, and we're making happen!"

"That's great news, Hermione," Harry said happily. Maybe now, Draco could get some peace when he walked outside. He was still being pestered, even though he and Harry were seen together frequently.

"What act," Ginny asked interested.

"I ran into Draco Malfoy a couple of months ago," Harry said, choosing to ignore Hermione snorting into her food (he'd finally told her about him talking to Draco a lot). "And this girl came up to us and asked why I was with him, seeing as he's a Death Eater." Harry rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I went to Kingsley with it, and it obviously worked."

Ginny, however, did not look happy.

"There is another thing, Harry," Hermione said even more happily, "I've been doing some research on amortentia, and I've been whipping it up in the potions room." Hermione and Ron had a very wizard-ish house, with their own room for brewing potions and practising spell work.

"Really? Are you getting anywhere?"

"Yes, we're trying to isolate the ingredients, to figure out exactly _why_ it smells like the things we love the most, and I think I finally got it."

"That's good," Harry said as they walked in to the room. The potion was brewing happily in a cauldron, and the fumes were positively making Harry dizzy. He could smell the familiar scent of treacle tart, the smell of Foy's fur, and something that strangely reminded him of apples. Harry had never been a fan of apples, maybe she'd made it wrong.

"Hermione," he said with a look of concern on his face. "Are you sure you've made this right?"

"Yes, pretty sure," Hermione said. "Is it something about the colour?"

"No," Harry voiced, "just… Nothing. It's probably nothing."

Hermione looked at him with concern, but didn't say anything else. She locked up the room, and they went back to the sitting room. Ginny was chatting with Ron about what on earth to get their mother for Christmas, and Harry was sitting rather solemn, looking at the fireplace.

"What's wrong, Harry," Hermione said as she sat next to him.

"Nothing… Nothing," Harry answered absent-mindedly.

"What did you smell," she asked.

"The usual," Harry lied quickly. "Treacle tart, Foy's fur, Ginny's hair."

Harry hoped the lie would be enough for Hermione, but form the look upon her face, it was not. "Harry James Potter," she said silently. "I've known you since we were eleven years old. I can tell when there is something wrong with you."

"Just, leave it, Hermione," Harry snapped. He was desperately trying to figure out where he'd smelled that apple-like scent before, but he couldn't get anywhere with it. He'd never been fond of apples, and it was like the smell… that smell suddenly went to his brain like a fever. He needed to figure out what it was, and soon.

"I could smell you," Ginny said as they were lying in bed that night. Harry pretended to be asleep. He felt a pang of guilt, but quickly pushed it away. It wasn't something he needed to deal with right now. The smell was still strong in his head, and he needed to find out what it was, he really needed to know.

He fell asleep, and could dream of nothing but green apples.

* * *

**A/N: **Good morning everybody! It's 10am here(wait, what?). This chapter is on the shorter side, and I'm sorry. But my chapters aren't really that long to begin with. If it wouldn't take three months between each chapter, I would merge two and two together, but I just wouldn't write them out fast enough for my liking. As to where this story will be going, I have no idea. I'm currently writing Chapter 6 by the way, so chapter 5 won't take long to be uploaded.

So I'm gonna end my rant here. So

Read and Review

xoxo, LiKv


	5. Chapter 5

absentSomehow, Harry had been able to shove the whole smell-of-apples-incident to the back of his head, and had currently gone back to his usual life. Eating, sleeping, working and living life with Ginny. It had been a couple of weeks now that she'd been at home, and the general mood of the house was dropping each day. Ginny was grumpy, Harry was grumpy, hell, even Foy seemed grumpy. So Harry had taken up walking. He could walk for hours with the dog, trying to get him in shape, playing in the park, letting the neighbours pet him. Anything to keep himself from going home. It was all very eerie of course.

It was just another Friday morning, Harry and Ginny were eating their breakfast in silence, and Foy still snoring like a best, when there was a sudden rap on the door. Ginny grumpily went to open it, and Harry stopped right in his tracks when he heard her reaction.

"_You_," she sneered at whoever was at the door. Oi, Harry suddenly thought, Draco.

Harry hurried out in the hallway, seeing the tall, blonde man chewing on a green apple.

"Nice to meet you too, Ginny," Draco drawled.

"What on earth are you doing here," Ginny asked, rather furiously. "You filthy little-"

"Ginny," Harry said tiredly. "I suggest you go in to the kitchen and do something. Try not to break anything while you're at it."

Ginny stomped away, and Draco turned a rather amused face at Harry. "Sorry for barging in this early, but I needed to thank you," he said. "Thanks to you enforcing that act, I finally got a _real_ job." He was positively beaming.

"That's great," Harry smiled. "Where?"

"At the ministry, it's just a secretary job for what'shisname… Perry Weasley?"

"Percy," Harry corrected him.

"Right, sorry. I'm on my way now actually, want to join?"

"Sure," Harry said and got his cloak. He shouted to Ginny who were obviously still fuming, that he was leaving, and left the house immediately. They decided to walk to the ministry, seeing as it was still very early in the morning, and few people would have arrived yet.

"You know," Draco mused after a walking in silence for a while, "the wife of Harry Potter, making the … I don't even know what the act is called –"

"The anti-classism act," Harry told him.

"Yes, that one. Would not enforce it."

"Well, Ginny isn't a fan of the act," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "It's all good when it's about not calling someone a mudblood or commenting on pure-blood royalty, but when it comes to _you_, she is _the_ biggest bitch I've ever had the chance to encounter."

"Would have thought that with Arthur Weasley as her father, she would be a righteous arse about actually keeping it up," Draco said, "but I suppose not."

"Ron isn't a fan either," Harry said, "but there too, I think it's just because of you. I just, don't understand why the two of them can't seem to grow up. Hermione is completely cool with it, and Percy Weasley helped me write it."

"Old habits die hard, Potter," Draco said. "I figure you haven't told dear wifey about our little encounters now and then, eh?"

"Nah," Harry said, "I figured she'd probably throw havoc. Much like Foy when he doesn't get his dinner in time."

Walking in the back entrance to the ministry, they parted ways in the elevator, Harry greeting a few of his colleagues before settling down at his desk. He was tired of work, there had been so little dark activity in the last few years, that it was hardly any use for him to work as an auror. He'd been wondering several times though, if there was any underground business going on without him knowing, but it didn't seem to be any signs of it. In any case, that was not his job, his job was to control the black market, patrol the stores that were previously known for having a tendency towards darkness and such and such. He did some paperwork, and went to get coffee in his break, laughing with a bloke named Williamson about something regarding Gindylows in a muggle pond, and soon, the day ended.

He was just on the verge to leave, when he thought that maybe he should check up on Malfoy. But he disregarded the thought quickly. Draco was a big boy and could handle himself, so Harry simply disapparated, and appeared on his front steps a few seconds later. Foy was over the moon at him coming home, but sitting in the living room, looking very grim, was Ginny.

"Harry," she said sternly. "What was _Malfoy_- " she said the name like it was something filthy someone had stuck under their shoes. "- doing here today?"

"He came to tell me that he got a job," Harry said simply as he hanged his cloak in the wardrobe. "Why?"

"I didn't know you were on speaking terms with him."

"Ah, I must have forgotten to mention it," Harry drawled, in a very Draco-esque manner.

"Don't make this about me," Ginny said, obviously sensing where this was heading. "Hanging out with Dean Thomas is one thing, but you spending time with a _Death Eater_," she spat, "is a completely different situation!"

"Draco is not a Death Eater," Harry said angrily. "You know _just_ as well as I do that Draco Malfoy is no more of a Death Eater than what I am."

"No, no I don't actually," Ginny fumed. "Don't you remember your sixth year, when he let loose a werewolf in the castle? He tried to kill Dumbledore for crying out loud."

Harry stared at her, how on earth could Ginny be so narrow-minded? Or maybe it was himself that were taking Draco in defence for something he'd surely done. Harry didn't know, nor did he care.

"He didn't do any of that. Yes, he fixed the vanishing cabinet, but he didn't fucking know that Greyback would be coming through it. And he did not kill Dumbledore. I stood there, I watched it," Harry said bitterly, "As I have told you on numerous times, Severus Snape was _ordered_ by Dumbledore to be the one to kill him before the curse did! Draco lowered his wand for fucks sake. Dumbledore offered to keep his family safe. Nothing that happened was _ever_ Draco's fault."

"I still don't want you to see him again," Ginny snapped. She was staring at Harry with a look of utter contempt.

"Well, he's my friend, so if you don't like it, you can just get the fuck out of here and leave me alone." Too late, Harry realised what he'd actually said. Ginny didn't seem to have a witty answer, she just got up and went to the bedroom, coming down a few minutes later with a bag.

"Fine," she said, "absolutely fine. If you need me, I'll be at the Burrow." And then she left. Leaving Harry staring at the closed door.

Harry didn't sleep well at all that night, he wasn't particularly depressed over Ginny leaving, he was… sad, maybe, but certainly not depressed. So he spent the night petting Foy, trying to get the dog to stop howling every once in a while. He was obviously very upset over the argument the couple had had, but Harry couldn't bring himself to apologise to Ginny because of his dog. The thing was, Harry didn't even believe for a second that he was wrong, why should he? Everything had been carefully explained to him on several occasions, and the Malfoy's had been pardoned, even Lucius(whom Harry had to admit, he still was no fan of).

At seven in the morning that Saturday, he got up and made some coffee. He'd slept next to nothing, and needed the coffee to get him going. He wrote a quick owl to Hermione, hoping that she would pop by and talk to him. He really hoped that Hermione wouldn't take side with Ginny on this, he could really need a friend. There was something though, he could talk to Draco, but he didn't want Draco to feel guilty about breaking up a marriage. Even though it wasn't sure that the marriage actually was breaking up, that could just be Harry being too paranoid for his own good.

A quarter to eleven, Hermione flooed herself in to the living room, standing in front of Harry with a brisk look upon her face.

"Harry James Potter, what did you do," she asked, not very compassionate, Harry noted, maybe Ginny had rattled on him anyway.

"I stood up for my wizard classism act," Harry replied. "It was all very stupid, really."

"You threw her out!"

"No, I did not. I said that if she didn't like that I spent time with Draco, she might as well leave. And now she has, and I'm going to die alone with twenty dogs who will eat my corpse."

"Well, that escalated quickly," Hermione said with a little laugh. She sat down next to him on the ugly sofa, and touched his shoulder. "Harry, for the past months I've seen you happier than I've ever seen you before, but I've also seen you sadder than I've ever seen you before. I can't understand you right now, you need to talk to me."

"I love Ginny," Harry said stubbornly. "I just. Okay, so Draco said something about the fact that you _know_ when you're happy. Like I know I'm happy when I'm with Foy, and when you and me and Ron are laughing over something silly, those are things I know. But I don't _know_ that I'm happy when I am with Ginny." He sighed heavily and leaned back on the sofa. "It's all so stupid."

Hermione huffed, but said nothing. Maybe she understood that he just needed her to sit with him for a while, or maybe there was something else going on. In any case, Harry got up after a while, and made them some lunch, which they ate in silence. He planned on having a calm day, and certainly did not expect Draco Malfoy to barge in a couple of hours after lunch. Harry and Hermione were talking about the new teachers at Hogwarts, and Hermione was simply baffled at the blonde striding in to Harry's living room.

"Harry," he said with a huge grin on his face, "it's time to get famously drunk! Oh, hello there, Granger."

"Malfoy," Hermione said, eying Harry suspiciously. Draco was gnawing on an apple, looking like he didn't have a care in the world. "I don't think Harry is up to being… famously? drunk. He and Ginny had an argument last night."

"So I've heard," Draco said and sat down in an armchair by the fireplace. "That calls for either drinking for depression, or drinking for happiness. I'm up to either one, actually."

"If I'm going to continue being friends with you, I really need to consider alcoholism," Harry mused, and to his surprise, both Draco and Hermione laughed. "But why not, why not get famously drunk and spew in the gutters outside of Diagon Alley, it wouldn't be the first time, and certainly not the last."

"That's the spirit," Draco said with a grin. "Granger, you could come too, if you like." It looked like it took him all the effort in the world to ask that question, and luckily, Hermione politely declined.

"I need to do some damage control on Harry and Ginny's marriage," she said. "If there is any hope in saving that…"

"What did you actually argue about," Draco asked curiously, now looking directly at Harry, who suddenly turned a brilliant shade of magenta.

"Nothing, nothing really. She was just being pissy at me for spending time with you."

"That's my cue to leave then," Hermione said. "Later Harry, Draco." And with that, she got some floo powder and disappeared in to the fire.

Harry and Draco looked at each other for a moment, before Harry got up and made some coffee for his blonde friend.

"She was a real bitch," Harry said, "bitching about you being a Death Eater, bitching about Dumbledore, about the vanishing cabinet, and I tried to remind her that nothing was actually your fault." Harry just blabbered on, he needed to explain this to Malfoy, but he just didn't know _how_. "And I just told her that you were pardoned. And she went all like, didn't want me to see you again, so I told her that wasn't going to happen, and if she didn't like it, she could get out." He put down the coffee in front of Draco. "Then she left. I've never seen her like that, Draco, it was horrible. Completely and utterly horrible."

Draco didn't say anything, just chucked the remains of his apple in the fire, and looked at Harry with a disbelieving eye. Harry quickly turned away, not really knowing what to say either, so they just sat there in silence for a while, and it was good.

"Why do you keep standing up for me," Draco asked after a while. He hadn't touched his coffee, Harry noted, but that was hardly of any concern.

"I don't know," Harry answered honestly. "I just… somebody needs to, right?"

"I suppose," Draco muttered. He was staring into the fireplace, but not really seeing it. "I'm glad though, that you do. It's good to have at least one friend."

Harry smiled. Friend. That was what they were, wasn't it? In any case, Draco soon proposed that they should leave for the Leaky Cauldron, and so they did. Luckily, once there, they didn't run into any problems. Tom, the barkeeper kept throwing firewhisky at them like it was Leprechaun gold, and soon they were both, to quote Draco, _famously wasted_. They simply sat at their table, practically laughing their arses off every time any of them said anything. Draco was indeed good company, and he did know how to make Harry feel better.

It was well past two in the morning, when the odd couple stumbled out of the Cauldron, laughing at some ugly witch that had popped by to say hello to Tom. They both knew that the Cauldron had closed hours ago, but Tom couldn't throw out his best customers now, could he?

"You know, Potter," Draco slurred as he walked down the shabby street of London. "I keep wondering why you haven't gotten the nerve to just divorce Weaselette yet."

"I'm married to her, Draco," Harry pointed out a little unsteady. "I made a promise to stay with her in sickness and in health, to good times and bad, and blablabla." Despite his drunken state, even Harry could note the hollowness in his words.

"I did the same to Astoria," Draco drawled. He sat down on the sidewalk, looking somewhat like a drunken hobo, Harry marked, but didn't say anything, so he just sat down next to him.

"But I love Ginny," Harry tried to defend himself. His head was resting against the wall, and ever though it was late October and bloody freezing, it felt good to sit outside. Teeth chattering though, he curled his feet up to his chest and tried his best to keep warm.

"Maybe you love her more like a friend," Draco said with a grin. "Anyway, it's obvious that you don't love her anymore."

"Why?"

"Because if you loved her, you wouldn't be sitting her with me; you would either be at home sobbing your sad little eyes out, or you would go and fid her."

Harry didn't answer, simply because he realised that Draco did have a point. How could he have gone from being so happy with her in July, to simply stop loving her in October? That was only three months, and he simply didn't understand what kind of factor could have made all this happen.

"I should get home," Harry said after a while. His head had cleared up a little, and he realised just exactly _how_ cold it was. If he sat on the icy ground any longer, he would probably catch pneumonia. Draco got up on his feet, and held out a hand to Harry, helping him up.

"Thanks," Harry muttered. He was realising, of course, that they hadn't moved at all, they were standing awkwardly close to each other. Still, he didn't move, he just stood there, looking at Draco with a puzzled expression for a moment.

"I should really go," Harry muttered, and slowly started to back away from the tall blonde. Draco however, reached out to touch his hand, which made tiny sparks of electricity travel up Harry's arm.

"Don't," Draco whispered.

Harry tried to back off from him, but he wasn't even sure if he wanted too. Draco leaned in on him, a familiar scent of apples hit his nostrils, and Harry had a sudden realisation. He didn't have much time to ponder over it though, for soon, Draco's lips locked with Harrys. With a force of strength, Harry pulled away from Draco and backed away from the blonde.

"Harry," Draco said hoarsely, but Harry didn't hear, he simply disapparated home in a state of utter shock.

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**A/N:** Thank you all so much for your reviews! Love!


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Okay, so I'm so sorry for the wait! Hopefully it will be worth it (I don't know, lol). I'm in the middle of a practical examn in Drama and Theatre though, so I don't know how frequently I'll be able to update the fic. It's gotten to the point where I haven't written anything else, so we'll see.

Also, thank you so much for your reviews, they mean a lot to me! Lots of love, LiKv

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The morning after, Harry woke with a terrible headache, to a dog that was barking so madly, Harry was slightly concerned that there was a mad axe-murderer in the room. That was not the case though, standing in front of his bed, was none other than Ginny Weasley-Potter. Brilliant, that was just what he needed. The memory of yesterday's events came crashing down on him before he could give Ginny any further thoughts though, and he shivered with the memory. How on earth had he let that happen? How on earth had he let himself be kissed by Draco Malfoy, of all people? First of all, he was a bloke, and second of all, they'd absolutely loathed each other for the past ten years of their lives. This was just brilliant. Fucking brilliant.

"You're awake, I see," Ginny said scornfully, before Harry could continue with his inner rambling.

"Whatcha doing here," Harry grunted and sat up in bed. Okay, so he had kissed Draco, and then disapparated out of sight from him. That certainly wouldn't mean trouble, he thought sarcastically to himself. He couldn't quite comprehend if it was in fact the kissing or the running away part that made Harry want to go die in a hole, but one of them was it. He just needed to figure out which one.

"Nice to see you too," Ginny said dryly. "Hermione came to see me last night," she continued, "told me you were unhappy."

"I never said unhappy," Harry retorted as he got out of bed. "I just said that I didn't know that I was happy anymore."

"She told me Draco Malfoy had set you on the thought." She still said his name like it was something foul that the dog had dragged in.

Harry didn't answer at once, he just pulled on his trousers. "Not exactly," he said slowly, "he merely told me that one should _know_ if one is happy… And I don't know if I'm happy with you."

They went down to the kitchen together, Foy happily following them, and Harry made tea while Ginny prepared a small breakfast. They ate in silence for a while.

"What happened to us, Harry," Ginny asked silently.

"I don't know," he replied thoughtfully. "Drifted apart maybe? Or maybe we were just never meant to be together."

"I don't believe that," Ginny said, "I don't believe it for one second. We were always meant to be together."

"Maybe we're just one of those couples with an expiration date," Harry mused, but couldn't bring himself to laugh.

Ginny didn't answer, so Harry resolved in thoughts again. The smell from the amortentia, the smell from Draco Malfoy. Green apples, of course, green apples. How had he not noticed that before? It was all very stupid of course, Harry was having a weak moment (or ten) because of his marriage troubles, that was the only problem. Weak moments, but still, he should probably talk to Draco. Not that he would dare to get near the blonde anytime soon, he just needed to talk to _someone_. He tried to figure out whom, seeing as every last one of the father figures in his life except for Hagrid were dead, but he couldn't very well ask Hagrid about Draco Malfoy. Finally, he resolved to speaking to Hermione yet again. It was probably one of the most stupid things to do, but he didn't have a choice did he? He needed to get some of this stuff of his chest, and seeing as Hermione was the most reasonable person Harry had ever met, she was the best of the worst.

"I'll stay at the Burrow for a while longer," Ginny said as she was about to leave. "I don't think it's good for either of us to live together right now. Don't worry, I told my mom there was nothing wrong, that we just needed some space."

Harry smiled weakly. "Bye, Ginny." He closed the door after her, and he couldn't help but to feel that this was both an ending, and a new start. It was odd, that three months ago he'd been positively depressed every time Ginny walked out of that door, but now it was like he was just an empty shell of his own self.

He walked in to the living room and threw some floo powder in the fireplace. A few moments later, Hermione Granger was standing on his carpet, magicking away any ash she'd gotten on it.

"Harry, are you aware that it's only ten in the morning," she said with a slight yawn. She was wearing something that looked suspiciously like Ron's Weasley sweater from several years ago. Harry didn't comment though.

"Tea," he just asked.

"Yes, please," Hermione said and followed Harry in to the kitchen.

He proceeded to pour the steaming hot tea in to a mug for her, and absent-mindedly put it down in front of her. She didn't ask any questions, but he sensed her curiosity all the way from the other side of the counter.

After having decided and re-decided several times, he finally blurted out his concerns. "I did something stupid yesterday," he said, rather horror struck. "Or, I let something stupid happen yesterday. And I don't know how to explain it, because of those fucking green apples and that horrible love potion you were brewing, and I don't know what to do with myself, and I just want to sleep until I'm forty."

Hermione looked wildly confused, but she was still trying to reason with him. "Okay, so this stupid thing had something to do with green apples?"

"No, the smell of green apples," Harry pointed out, "and that smell was one of the factors in why I let that stupid thing happen in the first place."

"You smelt green apples in the amortentia, and that smell came back to haunt you yesterday, and you did – no, you let something stupid happen," Hermione summarized.

Harry simply nodded.

"I thought you could smell Ginny's hair in the amortentia."

"I lied," Harry confessed. "I just didn't know what to make of it at the time, and now I know, and it's fucking killing me. It's stupid, _I'm_ stupid."

"Harry, you're not stupid," Hermione said, taking his hand in hers. "But you need to tell me what happened. I can help you, whatever it is. And I promise that no matter how stupid it is, I won't judge you."

"But you will," Harry said slowly.

"I will not. When have I ever left your site?"

"IletDracokissmeokay," Harry breathed out. Hermione looked confused for a moment, before it dawned on her.

"You did what," Hermione shrieked, making Harry's head almost explode. "But you're not… I mean, are you?"

"I don't know, okay," he said shakily. "I don't know anything anymore. And those stupid fucking green apples."

"What did you do afterwards," Hermione wanted to know.

Suddenly blushing furiously, Harry admitted to having disapparated from sight. Hermione looked like she was going to go on with a lecture about the sheer stupidity of it, but she obviously sensed better.

"What do you want," she finally asked.

"I don't know."

"You better figure it out, Harry," she said with a little sigh. "Ginny won't wait forever, you know that, neither will Draco. And it would be a shame if you were just a tad bit too late in figuring out what you want. You don't want to end up like Dumbledore, alone in his elder days because he was too scared to voice his feelings."

Harry didn't answer, he was too unsure of what to do. Hermione stayed for a couple of hours, before excusing herself to go home and make dinner for Ron. Harry had begged her not to tell Ron, and he had never hoped more that she would keep her promise.

For the next couple of days, Harry made up his mind several times, and then his head just started to crumble again. He tried everything to get his mind back on track, but nothing seemed to work for more than a couple of minutes at the time. Foy was sensing that Harry was distressed though, and was acting more dog-ish than Harry had ever seen him. Stupid dog. Stupid dog that looked at him with those same, steel-grey eyes that had been so close to him just a couple of days ago. Harry simply felt stupid. He hadn't heard anything from either Ginny or Draco the past days, and maybe it was just as good. He felt like if either one of them walked through the door right now, Harry would either profess his undying love for them, or simply just snub them for the rest of their lives.

"Stupid green apples," Harry fumed to himself on his way to work one day. He still hadn't spoken to Ginny or Draco, and he hadn't had much time to speak with Hermione either. Ron was (hopefully) in happy oblivion, and that was the way things should be. It snowing like it was nobody's business though, and Harry had to wonder why he hadn't just apparated to his office. But there he was, walking and taking the back entrance to the ministry. He didn't notice the tall blonde in the elevator, before Harry had already gotten on it, and the door had closed.

"Potter," Draco said in a mock-polite voice.

"Malfoy."

It was a very uncomfortable silence, and even though the elevator ride probably didn't take more than a couple of minutes, it felt like it took hours. Harry was too embarrassed to actually look at Draco, so he settled for staring at the wall like a stone statue, and Draco seemed very occupied in his own thoughts as well.

When the elevator finally stopped for Harry to get off though, he couldn't help but to feel that he should have said something. Luckily, Draco had been thinking in the same manners.

"Harry," he said, holding the elevator doors open. "I'm sorry about Saturday… Anyway, you want to get coffee at lunch?"

Harry couldn't do anything but to agree, and as he went to his office, he could feel the butterflies fluttering sickly in his stomach. He hardly got anything done in those few hours before lunch, his mind was preoccupied with other matters, and when one of the senior aurors came in to his office, Harry randomly answered questions he had no idea about.

When it was five to eleven, Harry got up from his seat and slowly walked towards the elevators. They had agreed to have coffee in muggle London, merely for the hell of it. Harry wondered if he could get _famously_ drunk at eleven in the morning, but he figured he might get sacked if that happened.

He met up with Draco in the grand entrance hall, and they walked rather awkwardly next to each other out to muggle London. They found a Starbucks, and placed their orders before sitting down, still not having said a word to the other. Harry felt that he was somewhere between dying of shame and wanting to throw up from all the tension that was building in his body.

"Well, this is awkward," Draco said after a while of silence. Harry laughed weakly, but didn't say anything. It stayed awkward for a while, it was like every piece of laughter they had shared and every drink had a new meaning, and the laughter felt dead in Harry's head.

"I heard from Percy that Ginny is still staying at her parents," Draco tried again after a while.

"Yeah, well," Harry answered sheepishly, "she barged in Sunday morning. I was hungover as fuck, and Foy was barking like crazy, and she asked what had happened to us. When I couldn't give her a proper answer, she ran off again."

"What did happen to you," Draco answered, sipping his extra tall vanilla frappuchino. Even his coffee habits were extravagant, Harry thought bitterly.

"I don't know. We sort of fell apart. I know that I was happy in July, and now it's the beginning of November, and I don't know what the fuck happened." Harry was still very cautious, he didn't know what to say to Draco about what had happened, but talking to him about Ginny felt good, it felt normal. So Harry did that, tried to grasp his head around what had happened with him and Ginny, with none other than Draco Malfoy.

An hour later they walked together back to the ministry, chatting about Quidditch and the newest buy of the Holyhead Harpies.

"This was nice," Draco said sort of awkwardly as they were about to enter two different elevators; Draco was going up to the ministers floor, and Harry was going down to the courtrooms to observe an interrogation.

"It was," Harry agreed. Neither of them quite knew what to do, so they simply turned away from each other. Harry thought he was in safety when he heard Draco shouting after him.

"Hey, Potter," the blonde came jogging after him. "Let's have a drink tonight."

"I'm sorry, Draco, I can't," Harry said quickly, raking his mind for excuses to not drink with Malfoy. He simply couldn't.

"Why?"

"Early meeting, I need to be up early and having a raging headache won't help much," Harry rambled on, trying to sound convincing. He, of course, didn't have a meeting the next day, but going back to drinking with Draco so soon, was simply too much for Harry right now.

"Fine," Draco said, sounding a little disappointed. "I'll see you around then, Harry."

"Why don't you," Harry started, not liking the look on Draco's face at all. "Why don't you come over for dinner?" He was going to hate himself for this later.

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	7. Chapter 7

**A/N**: Hi lovelies! I'm sosososo sorry that I haven't updated in like 2 months. I've been crazy busy with examns and a trip to London and I basically haven't had time to write out this chapter before now. Besides, I had so much trouble writing it, because I'm really bad at writing this kind of stuff. Which you will se, whatever. It's a bit short, but I just needed to get it out there.

I hope I still have some followers! Please review!

xoxo

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How Harry could have been so utterly stupid that he had actually invited Draco over for dinner was beyond him. As soon as he'd gotten home, he'd curled up in bed with the dog for a good hour, just wanting to dig himself a hole and never come back up. Foy, however, seemed thrilled for some reason or another. Stupid dog, Harry thought more than once that afternoon.

Harry and Draco had made plans to eat around seven. Harry would make the food and Draco would (of course) bring the wine. It did sound suspiciously like a date, and even though the mere thought of exactly that made Harry want to curl so far down under the blankets he'd have to be found by archaeologists, there was still a jolt of excitement in his stomach when the thought crossed his mind. But no, this wasn't a date. The kiss had probably been a thrill-of-the-moment sort of thing, and the rest was probably all just in Harry's head (but why on earth did that mean it could be real?). There was nothing going on between him and Draco Malfoy. Besides, he was a married man, he needed to be responsible about his decision to marry Ginny, and that simply meant that even though there maybe, possibly, perhaps _could_ have been something going on between him and Draco… It simply couldn't be. Harry Potter was a married man. Yes. If only Ginny would return, everything could go back to normal.

But still, when the doorbell rang, Harry almost jumped out of his skin and proceeded to knock over a very expensive (and rather ugly) vase Ginny had gotten from her auntie Muriel. Harry quickly reparo'ed the vase, and straightened himself up the best he could in the mirror, before finally trying to open the door as casually as possible.

"Potter," Draco greeted him with a big smile on his face. "The food is ready, I hope? I'm absolutely starving." Without as much as a second glance at the door, he waltzed into Harry's living room like it was nobody's business. And Harry had to swallow a small chuckle at how the blonde treated the house like it was his very own.

"I haven't started yet," Harry said. "And please, do come in." He could hear Draco's laughter from the kitchen.

"Then let's get started," Draco mused. Harry walked into the kitchen, only to find Draco digging through the fridge, still acting like he owned the place. A glimmer of a fantasy managed to reach Harry's head before he could even stop it, what if Draco actually could live with him, here in this suburban, rather boring neighbourhood. He, however, quickly threw the thought away, and went into the kitchen to help Draco.

Not long after, the two of them were sitting by the dining table, talking about anything between heaven and earth, eating ravioli and drinking too much wine. Harry couldn't help but notice a habit in the two of them, and that was drinking way too much.

"Have you heard anything from your dear wifey," Draco asked as he shamelessly helped himself to seconds.

"Nah," Harry said between two mouthfuls. "Not much has happened since _earlier today_." Harry snuck a glance at Draco, and was positive he could see a triumphant smile on Draco's face, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

"Just as well," Draco said, smirking. "I for one, don't think she's anything to collect."

"Just because your marriage went to hell and back, doesn't mean that everybody else's is going to," Harry pointed out while he was pouring himself some more wine. "If you're going to get anywhere in life, you need to be more trusting of women."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I don't want to," he simply said. "I'm done with women."

"I'm sure every man on the planet has said that from one time to another."

Draco didn't answer, but Harry could again see that smirk linger on Draco's lips. Why was he staring at Draco's lips again?

A couple of hours later, they had seated themselves by the fireplace, complete with a glass of firewhisky each. They had covered just about every topic to talk about, and somehow they had ended up on the war. This wasn't a subject Harry particularly liked to discuss with just anyone, but when Draco had brought it up, Harry didn't really have any excuse not to engage in the conversation.

"I still can't believe you actually went into the bloody forest," Draco said thoughtfully as he nipped at his whisky. "You could have fucking died."

"I was supposed to die, remember?" Harry felt a bit queasy.

"I would never… I couldn't have done it," Draco said.

"I know," Harry answered. "We're different people, Draco."

Draco's eyes suddenly darkened, and like he didn't even know he was doing it, he suddenly clenched his left arm again, just like that very first day in Diagon Alley, which now seemed so very far away.

"I didn't mean it like that, Draco," Harry said.

"But you did."

"No, I didn't," Harry said solemnly.

There was a rather pregnant pause, in which Harry stared as transfixed into the fireplace, before Draco finally said something again. "Do you think it will ever go away," he asked.

"I don't know," Harry said. "I could ask Hermione for you, she knows way more about this than I do. Has it faded?"

"A bit," Draco admitted. "But not as much as I would like."

"Can I see it?"

Rather reluctantly, Harry thought, Draco slowly pulled up the arm of his sweater, revealing the skull and the snake on his forearm. Harry could see the shame that rose in Draco's face as Harry reached out to touch the mark. He slowly traced the outlines of it. It had definitively gotten weaker, more blurry sort of, much more so than what Draco probably thought. It was pale and grey, and in some years, there probably wouldn't be much there at all except for a scar.

"It will fade," Harry murmured, only just now realising he was so close to Draco he could feel the heat radiating from the blonde's body. He leaned back over to his side of the sofa again as Draco rolled down his sleeve.

They sat in silence for a while, Harry being too conscious of Draco's breathing for his own good. Harry wasn't sure what to do with himself. He was suddenly lost for words, so he confined himself in once again staring into the crackling fire. The darkness had suddenly completely engulfed the world around them, and it was only Harry and Draco.

"Draco," Harry said after a while, he'd finally found his voice again. "Did you know you always smell of apples?" The scent had suddenly taken a hold of him again, and he could feel the flutter in his stomach from it.

"I do," Draco asked with a slight smirk. "I do eat a lot of apples, that's probably the reason."

"I like it," Harry said, suddenly blushing like a lost maiden on her wedding night.

Draco turned to him and gave him a small smile. "I should go," he said silently, very unlike himself. Draco was never silent, unless he was up to some mischief or fuming for himself. Harry realised that he didn't want Draco to leave, but he couldn't tell him, could he?

But before Harry could even consider asking Draco to leave, the blonde had gotten up and was heading towards the hallway. Harry quickly got up and followed him.

"It's still early," Harry tried to say. His brain was screaming at Draco, but not wanting to look to desperate, Harry tried to keep it cool.

"Potter, it's nearly midnight," Draco said with another smirk. "And I've been abusing your hospitality for far too long."

"When did you ever care about that?" Don't leave.

Draco didn't seem to have an answer though; he simply put on his jacket and was very careful about buttoning up just right. "I'll see you around, Potter," he said, and before Harry could even react, two things happened. First, a mass of blonde hair leaned in and left a very swift, but still very real kiss on Harry's lips. Before, second, the door slammed, and Harry was suddenly left alone with a sleepy puppy.

The next couple of weeks, Harry were so coped up in his work that he barely had the time to even say hi to Draco. They met for lunch a couple of times, but it was highly awkward and not much happened. Harry hadn't heard anything from Ginny either, but Percy Weasley had been awfully stiff the last time Harry had talked to him.

It was a dark November evening when Harry suddenly heard a knock on the door. Who on earth would visit him at this hour? His first thought was Draco, but Draco hadn't even been at his house since the dinner. It could be Hermione, but then again, she wouldn't use the door.

"Ginny," Harry said surprised when he opened the door.

"Harry," she answered silently. "Can I come in?"

"It's your house, so… yeah."

Ginny didn't answer, which left an eerie feeling in Harry's stomach. They went in to the kitchen together, and Harry quickly magicked out a pot of tea.

"Harry," Ginny started, looking as though she was trying her hardest not to burst in to tears. "I love you… You know that, but this can't go on."

"I don't understand…"

"Harry, it's time for you to make a choice," Ginny said. "Maybe it is me being a silly school girl, but… You have to choose now. It's either him or me." She wiped her eyes with her sleeve, and Harry couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever seen Ginny so vulnerable and girl-like before.

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is," she said, tears now streaming down her face, "is that if you choose to be friends with Draco Malfoy, I will leave you. I don't want to do it, but I can't seem to overcome everything he's done – even if he was forced to do it. He risked the lives of his friends, and of us! And I take so much pride in our fight in the war, Harry, it's the only thing that's keeping me sane – knowing that we fought for what is good. I love you, Harry, but this has to stop, now."

Harry stared at her, not really believing the words he was hearing. He couldn't very well stop being friends with Draco, could he? But then again, he couldn't very well let Ginny leave him like this. They had after all, planned a life together. And when she got promoted, maybe they would have kids, a little red haired girl, just like her mother, and a green eyed troublemaker for a boy. As much as he hated to admit it though, he sort of understood her reasoning. But Ginny didn't know the Draco that Harry knew, she hadn't seen the changes in him. He wasn't the same anymore, and he was really forced to do what he did. But the thing was, Ginny had changed too. Or maybe it was Harry who had changed, and Draco and Ginny had stayed the same without him realising.

"When we married," Harry started a little shakily, "I planned my life with you. We bought a house, trying to live a somewhat normal life after the war. I thought about having kids with you and growing old with you, and maybe one day we would have grandchildren as well. I can imagine it right now as we are speaking, us sitting on the front porch of this very house, watching a big family run around the yard, and having to shout at them for mentioning Hogwarts or Quaffles, or begging to take out their broomsticks… But I ask you, Ginny, from the bottom of my heart. Please don't ask me to take this choice. I love you so very, very much, and I need you in my life… But the thing is, after everything that has happened lately, I need Draco too."

"You've obviously made your choice then," Ginny said bitterly, tears still streaming down her pale cheeks.

"No, Ginny," Harry said – crying now as well. "I just. I can't choose. And you have to understand, it has nothing to do with you, but it's nothing to do with him either. I just… I'm really confused about this, and I don't know what to do."

"If you can't choose, Harry, then I'm choosing for you," Harry stared at Ginny in serious disbelief as she got up from her chair and picked up her purse. "I'm tired of this, Harry. If you can't choose between the woman you vowed to stay with or that… man, we have nothing more to talk about."

"Ginny, please," Harry said, following her into the hallway. His heart was racing now, and he was suddenly sweating an awful lot.

"I'll send the divorce papers in the morning," Ginny said and walked out the door.

Black dots were forming in front of Harry's eyes. He tried calling after Ginny, but it was like his ears was all muffed up, and he could barely hear his own voice, so he didn't hear if anybody was answering him. The darkness in front of his eyes spread, and his head started to feel light, and he was oddly aware of his heart rate. He managed to think that he was fainting, just as the darkness engulfed him, and with a thump, Harry fell to the floor.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N**: A month has passed since the last time I updated. I swear to God, I believed it had only gone a forthnight. I hope you enjoy this update, and the next one will probably come sometime in the near(or far) future.

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Harry Potter didn't want to move. He just wanted to lay there, on the floor, not moving, for the rest of his life, but something was bothering him. Not that he bothered to open his eyes to find out what, but he could definitively feel something wet touching his cheek, next he could smell the stale breath of canned dog food. Harry made a feeble attempt at waving away the dog, but Foy didn't listen, he simply laid down next to Harry and continued to push his nose up against Harry's cheek.

"Sleep," Harry muttered, and the dog finally fell asleep next to Harry. Not long after, Harry slumbered away too, at the floor in his hallway.

What had to be several hours later, Harry woke with a surprised yelp. There was all too clear that there was someone in the room with him. He realised all to quickly that he was lying in a bed.

"Ginny," he asked hopefully, and sat up a little too fast, so the room started spinning again.

"Sorry, Harry," the voice of Hermione Granger sounded from above him. Harry just grunted. He got up from his position on the floor and managed to drag himself over to the sofa, where he collapsed again. He could vaguely hear that Hermione was tutting around in the kitchen, but once again he didn't bother to open his eyes to find out what she was doing.

"Coffee," her voice said a few minutes later, and Harry could smell the familiar scent of caffeine boring into his head.

"Don't want it," Harry grumbled.

"Harry, how long have you been asleep?"

"A few hours, maybe."

He could hear Hermione laugh. "Try a couple of days, Harry."

Harry sat up quickly again, how was that possible? It couldn't have been more than a couple of hours since Ginny had left, surely? Hermione had to be wrong about the dates or something, but when he voiced this, Hermione shook her head.

"I came over two days ago, the day after Ginny… you know… She was complaining that you hadn't answered the… papers, but you were asleep in the hallway. I didn't dare to magic you up the stairs, so I figured I'd just leave, and you'd wake up in a couple of hours. But when we heard nothing from you yesterday, I figured I'd need to come and check up on you again."

"But if you left me on the floor, why did I wake up in a bed?"

"You've probably been awake but not conscious," Hermione answered. "Like, you've taken a glass of water, and gone to the bathroom, and figured out that you had to sleep in a bed and not on the floor."

Harry laid down on the sofa again. "I didn't want to wake up," he groaned. "Why couldn't I just sleep?"

"Because you can't just curl up in your sock drawer and sleep for days," Hermione said sternly. "You've fucked up royally, Harry."

"Thanks, I haven't noticed," he answered sarcastically.

"Harry," Hermione said, breaking the silence that had been over them. "You need to get up, take a shower and get dressed."

"Why? It's not like I have someone who cares." Why was Hermione here, couldn't she just go home? The only things he wanted right now was either to A) sleep for days, B) Get Ginny to come home, or C) Get famously drunk with Draco. And seeing as neither the first or the second seemed to be happening, he decided he'd get Draco to come over. But he strongly suspected Hermione was right with the whole shower-thing.

"You have," Hermione said. "You just don't know how much Ginny cares."

"Then she shouldn't have left," Harry grunted stubbornly.

"You kinda brought it on yourself."

"Fuck off, Hermione."

"Well, you did," Hermione said.

"You have no idea."

"I know you chose Draco over Ginny."

"I just told you, you have no clue," Harry said, now he was starting to get mad. "You have no idea how _my_ marriage is, so stop meddling."

"I'm not meddling, I'm just –"

"Seriously. Fuck off and leave me alone."

"Fine," Hermione said angrily, and with a crack of a wisp, she was gone. Good riddance, Harry thought bitterly.

Right, now to the whole getting drunk-part. He managed to get himself off the sofa and stumble over to the counter where he wrote a note to Draco, which contained seven words: _Cauldron, half an hour, famously drunk. Harry_. Then he went to the shower.

Exactly half an hour later, Harry got in to the Leaky Cauldron, looking for the blonde headed be-… man. Not that he had much time to look, because suddenly, out of the blue, a too well-known reporter stood before him. Luckily, it wasn't Rita Skeeter, but this woman owned many of the same qualities that Rita Skeeter was known for, except that this woman(named Giselle, if Harry wasn't wrong), didn't carry around that bloody pen, nor could she – after Harry's knowledge – turn in to a beetle.

"Harry Potter, the boy who lived," she mused, "is it true that you and Miss Ginevra are splitting up?"

Harry stared at the woman, who scribbled like a madwoman on her notepad.

"Well, is it," she asked again, more anxiously this time.

"No comment," Harry said angrily, and tried to push past the woman, but she wouldn't budge.

"It is true that the marriage has been shaking for a while, we have it from secure sources, but what has happened that made the great Harry Potter, and the less famous Ginevra finally split up?"

Harry was about to tell her to sod off, when a familiar voice split through the bar.

"Seriously dangerous Death Eater approaching, who will curse this bitch's family if she doesn't get the fuck out of Potters way." Draco Malfoy stared down at the reporter with a look that could seriously kill, and it didn't take long for the reporter to shrink away in the shadows, no doubt writing on her newest story for witch weekly: _Harry Potter – Associating with Death Eaters? Is the new magical revolution coming?_

"You shouldn't have done that," Harry muttered, but couldn't help but to draw a minor smile. "Now, where is my whisky?"

"Not so fast, Potter," Draco drawled. "I talked to Granger, and she said you probably hadn't eaten in a few days. So food is happening."

"When did you talk to her?"

"Just a few minutes ago. She strongly suspected that after having thrown her out of the house, you would come to me. Which, I hate to admit, she was right about. She told me what has happened, and strongly advise you to eat before you do anything else or you will need to be pumped. Not that I know what that means, but it sounds wildly uncomfortable."

Harry had to admit that this time too, Hermione was right, and he made a mental note to apologise to her later. So they both bought two enormous burgers, and it wasn't until the plate was in front of him, Harry realised how hungry he was. They didn't speak much as they ate, Draco tried to start a conversation a couple of times, but gave up when he realised that Harry didn't feel like talking.

"I'm still going to get drunk," Harry said when they were finished with their meals. He waved to get Tom the barman to come over to them, and not long after, a bottle of firewhisky and two glasses had replaced their empty plates.

"Take what you can," Harry said with a smirk as he raised his glass.

"Give nothing back," Draco finished, and with that they emptied their first glass.

One of the things that Harry liked so much about Draco, was that there was always a reason to be drunk. Your best mate got dumped? Let's get drunk to that. It hadn't worked like this with Hermione or Ron, because if Harry had needed a night of heavy drinking, none of them would have actually been doing heavy drinking, just paying attention to how much Harry was drinking, and they were so responsible. That's another thing Harry liked about Draco, he wasn't so bloody responsible all the time.

They drank in silence for the first half of the bottle, only saying various and random remarks. Like when the Witch Weekly reporter left, Harry noted that, and Draco snorted into his glass. Or when the person they didn't know was a boy or a girl walked in, they shared a quick look, but glanced away as not to laugh. It was just what Harry needed, no nagging about the failed marriage, no nagging about not being allowed to spend time with his cru-friend. It had stopped being awkward too, which was great, so Harry didn't have to want to die in a hole every time he looked at Draco, which was always a plus.

"We really shouldn't be drinking this much," Draco mused and downed what had to be his fourth or fifth glass of firewhisky.

"When did you start to care," Harry asked as he promptly re-filled Draco's glass. "Tonight, we drink to get _famously_ drunk, and I expect you to keep up the pace."

"Are you trying to get me drunk," Draco asked with a sly smile.

"Just shut up and drink," Harry said, taking another sip of the bitter drink.

"That reporter though," Draco said, now with a little wrinkle in his forehead. "Wonder what she'll come up with."

"There is a slight possibility that calling yourself a Death Eater is the stupidest thing you've ever done," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "But nobody will take her seriously if she posts anything in Witch Weekly anyway, that magazine went to the dogs when we were at Hogwarts."

Draco nodded solemnly. "But anyway, it's not like I care about what's written in that bloody paper. I've got more important things to do, man."

"Like what?"

"Like getting drunk with my favourite person." The last few words were barely audible, but Harry was a hundred per cent positive that he'd actually heard them. More so, the colour of Draco's face went from pale to tomato red in seconds, so that was a clear sign as well.

However, Harry chose to overhear the comment, he couldn't bear to think about Draco right now, or about any feelings that may or may not have been there. It was depression night, since his wife had left him, solely because Harry was friends with Draco. But what Harry couldn't quite grasp, was why it had been so hard to just tell Draco that they couldn't hang out any more. Surely, Ginny had to have meant more to him? Obviously not, though, for as Harry looked at Draco, he thought about the way things would be if Draco wasn't in his life anymore. Had they never re-connected, it would have been a whole different story, simply because Ginny and Harry would have the same almost-perfect marriage they'd had for the past three years. But now, it was like it was Draco who had ripped apart their marriage, except it wasn't. Because none of it had been Draco's fault, it was Harry who had given Draco more priority than Ginny, and Draco was so much easier to talk to than Ginny. But still…

"I miss Ginny," Harry said after some silence. "I can't believe she actually left me. I never thought she would actually leave. I thought she would be pissed for some weeks, and then come back home to me, so we could be us again. And fuck this." He emptied the bottle of firewhisky into his glass, and emptied the glass almost as fast. "I need more booze."

"Why did she leave you," Draco asked after Tom the barman had put another bottle of whisky in front of them.

"It was stupid, really," Harry said, and re-filled their glasses. "She came home – Hermione said it was a couple of days ago – and demanded that I had to choose between her and… well, you."

"And you chose me, no wonder she left you man," Draco said with a sly grin.

"I told her I couldn't choose," Harry argued, "that's a whole other matter. It's like this, Ginny is – was – is my wife, and I love her, but maybe I only love her because I've been with her since I was twelve basically. But then there are you, who are like triumphing the best friend spot, and it's bloody hard to reason with, but I don't know what to do with my life, and I'm going to die alone with my dog." Harry slammed his head down at the table top, groaning loudly. "I hate my life."

"Suck it up, Potter," Draco said. "You're not the only one who's – how should I put this lightly – heartbroken."

"Thought you didn't care that your wife left you," Harry said, bothering to lift his head just enough to gulp down some more alcohol.

"I don't," Draco said with clenched jaws.

"But I-"

"Just leave it, Potter," Draco snapped.

Harry looked up at him, and there was something sad in Draco's expression that probably had lingered for a while, but Harry never had noticed. Could Draco possibly have had a life beside Harry for the last what, four – five months? No, that wasn't… No, Harry didn't want to care about other people's misery right now; he wanted to focus solely on himself. God, Ginny was such a bitch that had left him.

"I should have chosen her, right. I mean, we've vowed to stay together until all eternity and all that crap. Shouldn't that count for something, I mean. You're great, man, but she's my _wife_ you know." Harry looked at Draco. "But it's just. It's like that episode of friends where Emily asks Ross to choose between her and Rachel, except you and I have never had a love affair, which makes it all incredibly banal that she – Ginny should be such a bitch about it."

"Friends," Draco asked.

"TV show," Harry answered. "So it should be easy, right. Ginny shouldn't give a shit, because for starters, you're not an incredibly hot girl, and second, she has no right. Did I ask her to choose between her colleague Dean Fucking Thomas, or to stay with me, no!" Harry sighed heavily. "Anyway, what's the time?"

"It's past three in the morning," Draco said lazily, appearing to not really have been listening to Harry's rant.

"Fuckshit," Harry uttered, "I should get home."

"You're in no state to apprate, my _friend_," Draco said snarkily.

"I'm not that drunk."

"Just wait until you rise," Draco said, this time with a grin.

Harry just laughed, it couldn't be that much of a difference from sitting down and standing up. But sure enough, when he rose from his seat, the world suddenly swayed, and he started laughing even harder.

Draco got up as well, and walked over to Harry, still with the grin on his face. "We've been drinking almost two bottles of whisky," Draco slurred, appearing drunker than before as well. "We _are_ that drunk."

Harry grinned at him. "But I need to get home, man," he said, stumbling a bit over his words as well. "Don't have enough money with me to rent a room for the night."

"Sleep in mine," Draco said, still grinning.

Harry pondered over it for a couple of seconds, should he go home, possibly splinching himself, or just sleep in Draco's bed? They would totally just sleep, so… But he didn't need to think about the whole Draco-thing right now. It was Ginny who was supposed to be on his mind. But Draco's grey puppy dog eyes looked at him like _that_, and it was all so confusing.

"Fine," Harry finally said and put his arm around Draco's shoulders. Laughing and stumbling they made their way up to the third floor were Draco was currently residing – no doubt waking half the cauldron in their attempt to be silent. When one is supposed to be drunk and silent, they more often than not end up just being drunk and silent-loud, which is exactly what happened to Draco and Harry.

However, they finally made their way into a cosy room that was pretty much exactly like the one Harry had lived in so many years ago, except Draco had been living there on his own for the past months, so it was pretty messy.

"Welcome to my humble home," Draco grinned and slumped down on the bed. "I really need to get an apartment, mother isn't all too happy that I'm using so much money on staying here."

"Why don't you get an apartment," Harry asked. He sat down on the bed next to Draco, not really bothering to care about the fact that he was actually in a really awkward situation.

"I dunno," Draco said and laid down, his feet dangling over the edge of the bed. "I'm only twenty three, and it's just… I've been living in a bloody house with a bloody wife for so long. I need a bachelor place, and buying an apartment is so bloody adult."

Harry grinned and lay down on the bed as well. "Then rent a place. Don't buy it, rent it, and make it into the best bachelor place ever, something worthy of the name Malfoy." He laughed a little. "I wouldn't get a cat though."

"Why," Draco asked and turned his head towards Harry.

"Because I'll be over all the time, stupid," Harry said, rolling his eyes at the blonde. "And Foy really isn't a fan of cats. But I suppose a ferret would do."

"Idiot," Draco said, smacking Harry over the head, but still laughing. "Good times," he muttered.

"Yeah, good times," Harry said, quiet as well. The two of them looked at each other, both very insecure about what to do. "Kiss me," he whispered.

Draco looked at him for a couple of seconds, and Harry got a sinking feeling in his stomach, he'd surely fucked up and said something stupid. But before he could even finish his train of thoughts, Draco edged closer, and kissed Harry gently on the lips.

"Like this," Draco asked.

"Yeah," Harry breathed against the blondes lips. And they were kissing again, more fiercely this time. Harry slowly let his tongue wander, and his whole body felt like exploding as their tongues met. Slowly, it turned in to some sort of wrestling match to get on top, but after a while it was clear that Harry had lost (not that he cared one bit at the moment). He had Draco lying on top of himself, and could feel the heavy body press against his own, and not once did they break the kiss.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N**: Hi loves! I'm nearly two chapters ahead, which is amaaazing. So I'll probably post more in a forthnight or so (just to give myself some time to write some more, so you don't have to wait for months before the next chapter comes). Oh well. Love you all

xoxo

* * *

The morning after, Harry woke with a massive headache. No wonder, thinking about the amount of whisky the two of them had managed to chug down during the evening. With a groan he turned around in the very comfortable bed, and stared right into a very blonde back head. Memories of the two of them basically humping (with their clothes on, though), came in to Harry's mind, and suddenly everything was very surreal.

Trying to be as quiet as possible, he got out of bed, and headed for the bathroom. When he returned a few minutes later however, Draco was awake, and sat on the bed grinning like a child on Christmas morning.

"Good morning, Potter," Draco said.

"Morning," Harry grunted, not quite being over his headache yet. This hangover was a pain in the butt, but at least he wasn't hanging over the toilet, throwing up. He'd had a few of those too, and those were the worst.

"You look like you've been run over by a train," Draco said with a grin. He was now lying on his back with his arms propped under his head.

"Fucking feels like it too," Harry said, scrambling to find his shoes. He'd slept in his clothes all night, so at least he didn't have to go scurrying after socks sneaking under the bed or anything of that sorts. "Why did you let me drink so much?"

"Hey, I tried to stop you, man," Draco mused. "But you seemed to have _such _a good time; I didn't want to stop you."

"Yeah, it was fun," Harry said, sending a small smile in the general direction of Draco. "Have you seen my shoes?"

"By the door," Draco answered. "But you can't leave already. We need to get some breakfast, explore the world! It's a beautiful day, the sun is even shining."

"First of, if I eat anything I will hurl," Harry said, "and second, it's the end of November, so it's probably fucking freezing."

"Wow, Hangover Harry is no fun," Draco grinned.

"How are you not hangover," Harry suddenly asked. "You're like Mr Fucking Ray of Sunshine."

"It's the hair," Draco answered seriously. "It's so perfect it prevents me from getting a hangover."

Harry rolled his eyes as he put his shoes on. What he didn't understand, was why this wasn't awkward? They'd spent the better part of the night making out and dry humping on that very bed, but there was no tension, there was no awkwardness. There was just Happy Draco and Hangover Harry, which were basically the polar opposites of each other, which surely was the perfect match.

"You could at least join me for coffee," Draco continued, "I think you owe me that much for not letting you splinch yourself last night."

Harry laughed. "Fine, fine," he answered. "But I don't believe for a second that was the reason you didn't send me home last night," he continued as he walked out the door.

"It totally was," Draco said with a grin, following Harry down the stairs. "I can't imagine you being very attractive missing your arms or even worse – your nose."

"Maybe that's how old Voldemort lost his," Harry mused. The morning after humour was so bad; Harry could barely contain himself from laughing at his own joke.

They went in to the pub area of The Leaky Cauldron, but Harry barely got a chance to look for a table, before Hermione's voice almost made Harry's head explode.

"Harry, there you are!" She came towards him them too fast for Harry's brain to register it properly.

"Hermione, inside-voice, please," Harry said, clutching his head.

"You have to forgive him, Granger," Draco said with a smirk. "He had one too many yesterday."

"I told you to feed him first," Hermione said, rolling her eyes as they made their way over to a table.

"I'm not a dog," Harry said, but was simply overheard.

"I did feed him," Draco answered, "but after nearly two bottles of firewhisky…" He waved his hand in the general direction of Harry. "There's no wonder he's got a headache. I on the other hand, am so used to drinking that I've stopped getting hangovers."

"Alcoholic," Harry muttered snarkily.

"Anyway," Hermione said briskly. "Why does the Witch Weekly think that you are fraternising with Death Eaters, Harry?" She threw a magazine in front of them, and on the front page Harry could see an old picture of him and Draco laughing together, with the headline: _Harry Potter – Associated with Death Eaters?_

"She didn't," Draco said, looking just as flabbergasted as Harry felt.

Hermione opened the article and started to read loud "_Harry Potter – Associated with Death Eaters?_

_Our reporter, Mrs Giselle Moore, happened to be at the Leaky Cauldron one November night, when Harry Potter, newly heartbroken strode in. She tried to engage him in conversation about the recent breakup with Ginevra "Ginny" Weasley, but he wouldn't answer._

_From sources, Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley broke up after a fight in their own home, which the neighbours reported as _violent_. They heard items being broken, shouting and Harry Potter throwing Ginevra out with his own hands. Why, you ask? It can be because Harry Potter has recently had a change of ways._

_When our reporter asked about the turn of events, they were rudely interrupted by the well-known Death Eater Draco Malfoy_

"_He threatened to hex my family," Giselle says with a trembling voice._

_Why is Harry Potter fraternising with the enemy? Ms Astoria Greengrass says that Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy hated each other for all of their years at Hogwarts. Ms Greengrasss who has recently divorced Mr Malfoy, says that it was because Mr Potter was luring Draco farther and farther in to the dark side again._

"_I don't know what happened. One day he loved me, the next day he leaves me all alone in this big empty house," Ms Greengrass says teary eyed. "Draco, if you read this, please stop being with Harry."_

_Our reporter has failed to make contact with neither Mr Malfoy or Mr Potter."_

"Ugh," Harry groaned. "This is absolutely ridiculous."

"Apparently we need to stop seeing each other," Draco said seriously, "because my former wife – may Satan eat her soul – think that you are _luring me farther and farther in to the dark side_."

"This is not funny, boys," Hermione said sternly as both Harry and Draco burst in to laughter.

"No, seriously, Hermione," Harry said, struggling to keep a straight face. "You shouldn't hang out with us, because we will lure you over to the dark side."

Hermione rolled her eyes as the two boys just continued with their jokes for some while. "You two should really watch out," she said suddenly. "We live in the wizarding world; the walls have ears and eyes."

"What's that, Granger," Draco said, dumbfounded.

"I'm just saying that you should be careful."

"God, Hermione, you don't believe that stupid article, do you," Harry asked. "You know that Giselle is the new Rita Skeeter, she's dumb as a doorknob."

"I'm not talking about that," Hermione said, now looking at the boys sourly. "But whatever, you should give Ginny a call, to get her to the lawyer before she takes everything and your dog with her."

"She wouldn't do that, would she?"

"She's being egged on by Ron," Hermione said, rolling her eyes again. "He thinks that because she's his sister she's absolutely one hundred per cent right in everything she does."

"So you're standing up for me?"

"Well, the whole Weasley family has Ginny's back, so I figured somebody needed to have yours. I've got the name of a pretty good divorce lawyer with me here." She rummaged around in her purse for a while, before she took out a piece of parchment. "Just owl him, he's a good guy."

After that, Hermione didn't sit for long. She left after a while, saying she needed to do some damage control on Ron's brain, so he wouldn't think that Harry was the only fuck up in the relationship, and with a huff, she was gone out of the door.

"Well she's a handful," Draco said as he munched down some toast – they'd ordered breakfast earlier, and Harry was currently busy chugging down half a litre of coffee.

"Be nice to her," Harry said, grabbing some toast and jam as well. "The only reason she is like that is because me and Ron always did so much stupid things when we were in school. She had to have some control on us."

Draco just laughed. They ate in silence for a while, only interrupted by the clinking of cups and the sound of chewing – and every person walking in to the Cauldron staring at them of course.

"I should head home," Harry said after a while. "The poor dog has been ignored for far too long. And I should get ready for work tomorrow, there's probably a shitload to do."

"So you're going to leave me here all alone," Draco asked in a mock insulted voice.

"You could come with me, I suppose," Harry said. "But I promise you it will be very boring, I need to get some work done."

"Maybe I'll just stay here then," Draco said with teasing grin..

They left the Leaky Cauldron some minutes later and apparated to the hallway in Harry's house. The dog was thrilled to see them, of course, and Harry had to scratch his ears for a good ten minutes before Foy finally seemed happy and went to lie down on the couch. Harry had basically given up getting him to lie on the floor instead.

"So, you're going to lose the house to the old wife then," Draco said as he positively threw himself onto the sofa. "Too bad, it's a pretty neat house."

"I'm not going to lose the house," Harry said, rolling his eyes at him. "But I probably should owl the divorce lawyer." Draco didn't seem to hear him; he'd already turned on the TV, and seemed to be wildly fascinated by the weather report.

Harry decided to leave him alone in the living room while he wrote the letter, and went up to the office to write his letter. The office was dusty as never before, of course, but it hadn't been used in a while either. Harry had been a very bad worker the past few months, and had only done what was required from him, and nothing more. He would have to start pushing himself again, so there maybe, sometime in the future, would be a promotion for him.

He wrote out a quick letter to the divorce lawyer, and sent it away with the owl. It was funny how his life had turned out, really. He'd thought about it a lot over the past months, but just now it hit him for real. He was divorcing Ginny for a man he considered a friend. But they weren't just friends anymore, were they? After last night, he hardly thought so, but who knew what Draco was thinking. Maybe he thought it was just a drunken mistake, just as Harry had the first time. But if it was just that, why did Draco seem so… chill about it all? Harry didn't like being confused, it didn't suit him, and it didn't suit his mind either. He liked knowing things. In that particular area, he was very much alike Hermione, he didn't do much on a whim, he wanted to _know_. Of course, with Draco, it was impossible to know anything. That much Harry had figured from the first time they'd sat in The Leaky Cauldron together. With Draco, one could never know.

The thing Harry didn't understand was how easy it had been to just refuse to choose. He knew what the result was going to be, and still, Harry went for the stupid blonde instead of Ginny. And yes, the bloody smell of apples from that bloody ambrosia probably had something to do with it, but it surely couldn't be everything? He'd known and loved Ginny since he was eleven. He'd loathed Draco since they were eleven and only now gotten to know the man. It felt as though life had decided that Harry Potter had been loved enough, now he needed to be kicked, hard.

"What are you thinking about?"

Harry turned away from the window in surprise. He hadn't heard any sounds, but Draco was standing in the door opening with a grin plastered across his face.

"How karma is a bitch," Harry answered. He sat down by his desk and looked down at a paper from the auror department. There was supposed to be a meeting tomorrow at noon.

"You're not a happy person, are you," Draco asked, sitting down in front of the desk. "You need to loosen up a little, smile some more."

"I did plenty of loosening up yesterday," Harry said darkly. "Now I need to focus on getting my life back together."

"Does it even mean anything to you," Draco asked, suddenly alert and angry. "Does it even mean fucking anything to you," he asked again, slamming his palm on the desk. Harry had never seen him like this, happy and bubbly, yes, angry and slamming, no.

"I don't-" Harry stuttered.

"You're not the only one with a broken heart, Harry," Draco said, rising from the chair. "And you need to consider this."

"But you said there weren't any women in your life." Harry said, now confused, not daring to even think about the possibility of it being something entirely else…

"God, you're so stupid I can't even… Just…" Draco seemed lost for words for a second, before continuing his tirade. "I was done with women when I left Hogwarts," he said. "I married Astoria to lay low for a while, just to get the fuck of the map. And it was okay. But then I divorced her, and you were there. And did anything of it mean _anything_ to you, Harry?"

"I-" Harry answered perplexed, "of course it meant something." He rose from his chair too. "But I've been bloody confused for so long, and I didn't have a clean end to my marriage. It has just been so much, and I didn't know what to believe. What if everything just happened inside my head, what if I made it out to be more significant than it was?"

"You really believed that," Draco asked with a raised eyebrow. "That's stupid."

"You're not really considerate."

"Said the kettle to the pot," Draco muttered. "Anyway, I'll leave you too it. You said that you have work to do, and I need to not be here right now."

Harry walked Draco downstairs, and watched as the blonde put on his shoes and jacket. "I'll see you at work then," he said rather awkwardly as Draco reached for the doorknob. Draco didn't answer, he just walked out the door, leaving Harry very alone and very confused.

11


	10. Chapter 10

Hi lovely ladies! (and boys, I don't know if there are any, but if there are, say hi! :) So I did a thing where I wrote a chapter, and now I post it. Hope you like it!

xoxo

* * *

The next few weeks were very tiring for Harry. He and Ginny had met up with their divorce lawyers a few times, and they were arguing way too much. It seemed that both of them wanted Foy for their own, but Harry couldn't for the life of him understand why Ginny want him. Harry had no interest for the house though; he didn't understand why he needed two bedrooms and an office when he was all alone.

"I'm getting the bloody dog, Harry," Ginny said one evening. They had been in the office for hours with their lawyers, and Harry was tired.

"No, you are not," Harry said. "You gave him to me!"

"Yes, but I bought him you blubbering idiot!"

"I don't give a fuck! You bought him _for me_. He's been living with me since July, and it's currently December." Harry rolled his eyes.

"I don't care. He's mine!"

"He doesn't even like you," Harry spat at her. "He's happier when Crookshanks shows up than when you do."

"Now, now," Ginny's lawyer said. He was a bloke named Grayson, who was kind of a legend for being well, not exactly a winning lawyer. It was probably the best Ginny could afford on her journalist wage, not that Harry was patronizing of course. "Let's not get worked up over this, I'm sure we'll figure it out. My client will surely give up something else for the dog, she's made it clear several times that she doesn't want the house."

"I don't want the bloody house either," Harry fumed.

"What my client means to say," Harry's lawyer said – a very capable lawyer named Jorgenson. "Is that the house has no personal value to him, but the dog has. In galleons, the house is worth more of course, and it would greatly benefit Miss Potter-"

"-Weasley," Ginny shot in.

"Miss Weasley to take the house, and leave the dog for Mr Potter," Jorgensen finished.

An hour later Harry stood outside of the lawyers office with a paper that said he was the happy owner of a golden retriever named Foy. He'd given up the house for it, but it was worth it. Although, he did strongly suspect that Ginny only had wanted the dog so Harry would give up the house, Harry did not care. They had decided that Harry would stay for a week, to pack up his stuff and look for somewhere else to live, but that didn't give him much time.

He hadn't had much time to talk to Draco for the past weeks, not after the divorce had begun, but when he came home to the empty house, he wrote him an owl, asking him over to coffee. Well, coffee and helping Harry put stuff in boxes. There hadn't been much of a scandal with the Witch Weekly paper though; nobody had really seemed to care. Maybe the new law they'd worked out actually worked, or they'd just gotten tired of reading about the famous Harry Potter doing laundry.

It didn't take long before Draco knocked on Harry's door, and Foy ran down the hallway in some kind of exaggerated happiness over seeing the blonde. Harry couldn't help himself but to smile too. It's been too long since they'd seen each other, and Harry had missed Draco.

"What's up," Draco asked, walking into the living room like he owned the place.

"Not much," Harry answered, "just gave away my house to Ginny, and got the dog in return."

"Cool," Draco answered, placing himself on the ugly, green couch. Harry was happy to leave that particular piece of furniture behind. "I suppose I'm not just here for the coffee then." He grinned at Harry, making Harry's stomach do little flipflops.

"Well, if you insist, I suppose I do need a little help packing," Harry said with a sly smile in the general direction of the blonde.

"What's in it for me," Draco asked at once, getting up from the couch and walking towards Harry with a definite swagger in his hips.

"Oh, I'm sure I can think of something," Harry said, turning around and heading for the rooms upstairs.

It turned out that packing with magic actually was great. The two of them easily shrunk the desk to the size of something fit for a dollhouse and put it in a box. Stuff like this made packing easier, but still very slow. They spent at least a couple of hours in the dusty old guestroom where Harry had found the photoalbums so many months ago.

"It's Christmas soon," Draco said as they were entering Harry's office space, slash the library where all the unread books from Hogwarts were stored.

"I know," Harry said with a sight. "I guess I'll have to spend it with Hagrid, seeing as I'm not the Weasley's favourite person right now, and my family… Well. They're hardly family, are they?"

"My family have decided to stay in France for the holidays," Draco drawled as he waved his wand and a handful of books soared down in a books. "I'm going to stay at the Cauldron, trying to not drink myself to death. You are welcome to join."

"That sounded awfully formal," Harry said. He was looking through the drawers of the desk, seeing if he found anything interesting he could take with him.

"Well, I didn't know how you did invitations, Potter," Draco said with a small smirk.

"I believed we were beyond last names, _Malfoy_," Harry said in a bored tone. He picked up a parchment from the drawer and looked at it. It was torn and old and looked downright like trash.

"What's that," Draco asked curiously.

"The Marauders Map," Harry answered. "My father, Lupin, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew made it when they were in school," he explained as he saw Draco's quizzical look. "It basically shows all of Hogwarts, even those invisible. _I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_." He tapped the parchment with his wand, and suddenly a lot of small lines crinkled their way, tracing out a map.

"Is that McGonagall," Draco asked with a raised eyebrow. "She's hanging out with Madame Pomfrey and Professor Sprout apparently. Is this how you used to sneak around school?"

"Totally," Harry answered. "Very handy. I used it all of sixth year to spy on you. I was so befuddled when I figured the Room of Requirement didn't show on the map. So I spent my days wandering around there, trying to get the room to open." He sighed. "Oh well, it's pretty much useless now, I'm not at Hogwarts anymore."

"It's still brilliant," Draco said with a grin. "It should be possible to make something similar for, say, the Diagon Alley or the Ministry."

"Not the ministry," Harry said. "There are too many secret rooms in the Department of Mysteries. We don't know all its secrets. But probably something of Diagon Alley. Not that I understand why you would need it though. It's not exactly interesting."

"Could help me avoid Astoria," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "I ran into her the other day, she was positively beaming with Evil." Harry laughed.

They didn't spend much time in the office, seeing as there wasn't much to pack there. The bedroom and Harry's clothes would have to wait until later, so the only things left were the kitchen and living room, where there wasn't much of any interest later. However, they managed to get exhausted either way, so by the end of the day they were sprawled out on the sofa, laughing at something completely random.

"So, where are you going to live," Draco asked after a while.

"Ugh, I need to go apartment looking, it's so boring," Harry snorted. "I want to live near Hyde Park, near a tube station and reasonably far away from the Ginny Weasley house. Well, this one."

"Thought you were the type to live on Covent Garden," Draco said with a smirk.

"I think you're mistaking me for yourself," Harry answered, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, I should get started in looking. I don't fancy staying at the Cauldron for months, living on my parents' fortune."

Draco didn't have a reply.

The day after Harry had dragged Draco along to look at an apartment where Harry could live reasonably comfortable. There were a lot of crappy apartments out there. A lot of them suffered from minor things like leakage or an ugly carpet, but many of them had mildew, rats or cockroaches. Harry had almost given up when they came to the sixth and final apartment for the day. It turned out to be pretty much perfect (except for the extremely ugly carpet in the living room, but being a wizard and all, Harry could easily fix that).

It didn't take Harry long to say yes to the apartment, and before anyone even knew what had happened, Harry had somewhere to stay. No mildew, no lawn and no Ginny. It was near Hyde Park, so he could walk his dog whenever he pleased, it wasn't far from work, and Notting Hill was just a ten minute walk away. It was pretty much perfect. The place even had a fireplace, so flooing someone would be absolutely no problem.

Draco helped Harry move, and Harry said goodbye to his house only three days after the divorce was final. They had even ventured in to ikea together, which had to be every man's worst nightmare. So much people, and everybody and their dog staring at Harry's scar, and Harry was sure everyone was muggles, so he didn't quite get the jist of that.

Harry pretty much spent every waking moment with Draco. Meeting up for coffee before work, eating together at lunch, heading home to Harry's to do some more unpacking and buying some more stuff for the apartment, drink coffee until the late evenings, switching to wine, then going to sleep. They hadn't kissed again though, which made Harry wonder if Draco had meant anything of what he'd said that day not long ago, or if it was nothing.

It was the day before Christmas when Harry ventured in to London gift hunting for Draco. Now, London right before Christmas was a living nightmare, and if it hadn't been for the move, Harry would have been done so much quicker. He had no idea what to get for Draco though, so he had called up Hermione, who still seemed to be on his side.

They met at an overcrowded Starbucks, before they ventured down Oxford Street. Harry had decided to not get Draco anything magical, seeing as that would be utterly boring and useful.

"What did you plan on buying him anyway," Hermione asked. She was sipping her mocha latte and looking at Harry from under the many layers of clothing.

"No idea, that's why I brought you along," he grinned at her. "And I have your Christmas present." He reached into his pocket and took out a small parcel for her. It wasn't much, just a sweater he'd seen a lot of girls in the muggle world wearing, so he'd bought it for her. He was extremely bad at buying presents, and that was the easiest thing he could come up with.

"That's very nice, thank you, Harry," Hermione said, giving him a swift hug. "I'll drop yours by floo in the evening. I didn't even think to bring it along."

They walked into Harrods together, which was positively overcrowded with people. They pressed their way to the back looking for something, anything to give to Draco. They hardly got a chance to talk to each other before they were out again, without results of course.

"What are you doing for Christmas, anyway," Hermione asked as they made their way towards one of the smaller and not so crowded shops.

"Seeing as I'm probably the last person the Weasley's wants to see, I'm going to spend Christmas alone this year," Harry said. "Or, well, I have Foy though, and probably Draco since his parents are in France."

"Harry," Hermione said, stopping in her tracks and giving him a good look-down. "Can you answer me one thing honestly?"

"I guess," Harry said confused.

"Are you in love with Draco?" Hermione was looking intensely at him, like he was going to come with some big revelation about his love life.

"I'm…" Harry thought about it for a second, was he in love with Draco? Sure, they had been spending a lot of time together, and Harry had to say that he rather enjoyed the blondes company. Come to think of it, they pretty much spent all their time together, either hanging out at Harry's, or getting lunch somewhere less-than-classy. But they surely were just friends, weren't they? And then he remembered the smell of green apples in the Amortentia, and how Draco's lips were so very soft. How he smiled all teasingly, not to mention their struggle to be on top that night. How nothing had been awkward the day after.

"I think I am," he finally finished. He couldn't explain it, because it was all a ramble inside Harry's mind, but it was all too clear now. Harry Potter was in love with Draco Malfoy.

"Have you told him," she asked as they continued their stroll down Oxford Street.

"Of course not," Harry said with a little laugh. "I only just found out myself, why should I tell him?"

"How could you have just found out," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "I only asked you to be polite. I've known for months now."

"For months?"

"Yes," she answered. "I think it was in October I realized, mostly because you freaked out over you two kissing, but also because of your rather strange reaction to the Amortentia only weeks before."

"Have you told anyone," he asked. They stopped outside a small store that looked like it held exactly what Harry was looking for.

"No, that's not my secret to tell," Hermione answered. "I haven't even told Ron, but I can't imagine him accepting it all too well." She looked like she was on the verge of saying something more, but she gestured for Harry to walk in to the store instead.

An hour or so later Harry had returned to his new flat with a gift that would suit Draco perfectly. He wondered if he should get in touch with the blonde, but decided against it tonight. After his big realization, he felt rather angsty about meeting Draco, and needed some time off. He spent the night walking the dog around in London, taking in the Christmas preparations the city had gone through in the past month or so. When they got home again, Foy quickly fell asleep in Harry's bedroom, and Harry decided against all odds, to read. He only managed to read about two pages though, before Draco walked in to the apartment without even bothering to knock.

"It's Christmas in three hours," Draco said with a huge grin on his face. Only now did Harry realize that he was wearing one of those cheap Santa hats and was carrying a brand new bottle of firewhisky. "Should we get drunk beyond our wits and do unspeakable things?"

Harry laughed nervously, feeling like there was some kind of monster lurching in his stomach. "Wouldn't getting drunk waste time," Harry asked, bile threatening to burn a hole in his throat.

"It would not," Draco stated. "Because it would make the hours until I get to open all my presents a lot shorter."

"I didn't mean that," Harry said. He got up from his chair and ended up standing rather awkwardly a meter or so away from Draco.

"Then I don't quite follow you," Draco said, and Harry was wondering if he was pretending to be stupid.

Harry took a huge gulp of air, before jumping into the fire. "I'm saying that getting drunk would be a waste of time because we should jump straight forward to us making out. And I don't know why I'm blushing, because this shouldn't be awkward, because I think I'm in love with you."

* * *

**A/N**: THIS WAS SO AWKWARD TO WRITE YOU GUYS. No seriously. I felt Harry's awkwardness all over my face and my body, and just wanted to go die in a hole on his behalf. Maybe I should go write the next chapter now, so I can find out what Draco's response will be!

I love y'all!

xoxo


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